SIPTU are now “rolling out” work stoppages. How can you roll out a stoppage? Surely a work stoppage is something that, if you were inclined to roll it in any direction at all, you would roll in. The “in” suggesting a tightening, a contraction, a diminution as opposed to a loosening, an increase or an expansion which might be suggested by “out”.
Rolling out is a term you would normally associate with something good, an innovation, a development or change in procedure that people would broadly welcome.
I think maybe SIPTU are trying to be funny here in using language with positive associations to describe their actions. They are being ironic. It is a little known fact that trade unionists are capable of great feats of irony.
They have probably looked around and seen terminology with connotations of vague optimism such as “going forward” being used very successfully in a broader context and decided that they wanted a bit of the action.
And who could blame them. We are, after all, where we are.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
If I Should Fall From Grace in Naas
There was a time in the not too distant past when there was no ceiling on how well things were going for us. This was something we liked to proclaim in company at every opportunity; “The observatory on the roof terrace will be finished next week, I’m delighted with my new boobs, we close on the Adriatic beach house on Friday, Oisin has been accepted into Harvard and Pat’s off to Florida tomorrow to become Killashee's first space tourist. Oh things couldn’t be better at the moment” This was called one-upmanship.
A few short years however have seen us emerge from this cycle into one of one-downmanship. Now there is no floor on how badly things are going for us. And in keeping with old habits this is something we like to proclaim in company at every opportunity; “A few heavies from Halifax came to the house the other day and filled the Carrera with wet concrete through the sunroof, Louis Copeland issued a repossession order for Pat’s favourite suit, the dentist ambushed Sorcha on the Main Street with an angle grinder looking for her braces back and only yesterday Oisin was caught in the crossfire of a gypsy argument and got turned into a badger. Oh things couldn’t be worse at the moment.”
A few short years however have seen us emerge from this cycle into one of one-downmanship. Now there is no floor on how badly things are going for us. And in keeping with old habits this is something we like to proclaim in company at every opportunity; “A few heavies from Halifax came to the house the other day and filled the Carrera with wet concrete through the sunroof, Louis Copeland issued a repossession order for Pat’s favourite suit, the dentist ambushed Sorcha on the Main Street with an angle grinder looking for her braces back and only yesterday Oisin was caught in the crossfire of a gypsy argument and got turned into a badger. Oh things couldn’t be worse at the moment.”
Pro Choice Coughlan
In response to Leo Varadkar’s suggestion in the Dail yesterday that she may not be cut out for the role that she has somehow miraculously acquired, Mary “Context” Coughlan cobbled together a typically hopeless, meandering, verbose and unconvincing retort which contained the following line “my personality is something for others to decide”.
Are we to interpret this as a recognition that the personality she currently possesses is not resonating with the voters and she is open to suggestions as to how it might be modified? If this is the case it represents a watershed moment in the history of politics. Maybe her spin doctors have been inspired by the plethora of TV talent shows where the eventual result is determined by a public vote. They have seen the success of this format and thought there must be some way to apply it to the political realm.
Assuming that by “others” she means the general public, we have been presented with an unmissable opportunity to configure the character of the second most powerful political figure in the country in a way which we find more agreeable.
It is unclear at this point exactly how it will work but presumably we will be given a number to which we will text our suggestions, the personality garnering the most votes being the one she will adopt henceforth.
It is certainly groundbreaking and carries with it the potential to eradicate politics as we know it. For if every so often our elected representatives place their personalities before the general public for re setting what is the point of opposition, what is the point of debate, what is the point of elections? If we can re boot our leaders periodically to keep them more in touch with the public mood I think we will have established a template that the rest of the world will be keen to replicate.
Think of all the time that will be freed up on the airwaves and television when we dispense with the annoying need for political dialogue. Think of never having to see the wig of David Davin-Power again. Think of all the column inches that can be devoted to Glenda Gilson instead and think of all the benevolence and contentment that will naturally flow from such developments.
Unwittingly I think Context Coughlan has unearthed the key to the survival and sustained happiness of the human race.
And you thought she was just a pretty face.
Are we to interpret this as a recognition that the personality she currently possesses is not resonating with the voters and she is open to suggestions as to how it might be modified? If this is the case it represents a watershed moment in the history of politics. Maybe her spin doctors have been inspired by the plethora of TV talent shows where the eventual result is determined by a public vote. They have seen the success of this format and thought there must be some way to apply it to the political realm.
Assuming that by “others” she means the general public, we have been presented with an unmissable opportunity to configure the character of the second most powerful political figure in the country in a way which we find more agreeable.
It is unclear at this point exactly how it will work but presumably we will be given a number to which we will text our suggestions, the personality garnering the most votes being the one she will adopt henceforth.
It is certainly groundbreaking and carries with it the potential to eradicate politics as we know it. For if every so often our elected representatives place their personalities before the general public for re setting what is the point of opposition, what is the point of debate, what is the point of elections? If we can re boot our leaders periodically to keep them more in touch with the public mood I think we will have established a template that the rest of the world will be keen to replicate.
Think of all the time that will be freed up on the airwaves and television when we dispense with the annoying need for political dialogue. Think of never having to see the wig of David Davin-Power again. Think of all the column inches that can be devoted to Glenda Gilson instead and think of all the benevolence and contentment that will naturally flow from such developments.
Unwittingly I think Context Coughlan has unearthed the key to the survival and sustained happiness of the human race.
And you thought she was just a pretty face.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Well You Asked For Ideas
I have concluded from reading the newspapers and listening to talk radio for the past two decades that counselling holds the key to everything. There is nobody whose life could not have been turned around if only they had access to basic counselling services. The potential benefits span the whole panorama of society from the most passive law abider to despicable career criminals.
All of our current woes, it seems, can be put down to a lack of appropriate counselling services down through the years. If Sean Fitzpatrick had access to a counsellor when his pet poodle Gekko died in 1968, the Anglo debacle would not have taken place. If Mary Coughlan had been offered suitable psychiatric support when she got a belt of a camogie stick in Bundoran in 1978 Michael O’ Leary would have five hundred lads up and running changing the oil on Boeing 737s in Hangar 6 as we speak.
There is no level of omission, neglect, ineptitude, irresponsibility, immaturity or malicious intent that can not be explained away by citing a lack of basic counselling facilities.
It transpires that we all need counselling on a constant basis. And therein lies the cause of and the solution to our current impasse. Forget the so called Smart Economy, this was merely a white elephant dreamt up by people with inadequate levels of counselling under their belt. Ladies and gentlemen I give you the Counselling Economy.
I call on the government to pour money into purpose built facilities to train everyone on the dole as a counsellor. I can’t see a flaw. We create much needed construction employment during the capital investment stage whilst bolstering our infrastructure. We create employment for existing counsellors who would act as administrators and lecturers in the new institutions. We enroll those on the live register and set them on a new, rewarding career path. If everyone was a counsellor all of our troubles – economic, political, spiritual, social and psychological would be over.
We can counsel each other back to health, wealth and happiness. I also call on the government to retrofit Hangar 6 and deploy it as the first facility. The ensuing ironic hilarity would give the country a much needed kick start straight off the bat.
We’ve all heard of the Council of State well allow me to introduce the State of Counsel. You’re living in it, silly. Tommy Fleming could write us a brand new up to date National Anthem more appropriate to current conditions; a jaunty Country n’ Irish ditty entitled Counsel State of Mind. I can’t see a flaw.
I think we have finally hit upon something in which we could be genuine world leaders; whinging to a captive audience.
At last; a cast iron, bona fide, water tight no brainer.
All of our current woes, it seems, can be put down to a lack of appropriate counselling services down through the years. If Sean Fitzpatrick had access to a counsellor when his pet poodle Gekko died in 1968, the Anglo debacle would not have taken place. If Mary Coughlan had been offered suitable psychiatric support when she got a belt of a camogie stick in Bundoran in 1978 Michael O’ Leary would have five hundred lads up and running changing the oil on Boeing 737s in Hangar 6 as we speak.
There is no level of omission, neglect, ineptitude, irresponsibility, immaturity or malicious intent that can not be explained away by citing a lack of basic counselling facilities.
It transpires that we all need counselling on a constant basis. And therein lies the cause of and the solution to our current impasse. Forget the so called Smart Economy, this was merely a white elephant dreamt up by people with inadequate levels of counselling under their belt. Ladies and gentlemen I give you the Counselling Economy.
I call on the government to pour money into purpose built facilities to train everyone on the dole as a counsellor. I can’t see a flaw. We create much needed construction employment during the capital investment stage whilst bolstering our infrastructure. We create employment for existing counsellors who would act as administrators and lecturers in the new institutions. We enroll those on the live register and set them on a new, rewarding career path. If everyone was a counsellor all of our troubles – economic, political, spiritual, social and psychological would be over.
We can counsel each other back to health, wealth and happiness. I also call on the government to retrofit Hangar 6 and deploy it as the first facility. The ensuing ironic hilarity would give the country a much needed kick start straight off the bat.
We’ve all heard of the Council of State well allow me to introduce the State of Counsel. You’re living in it, silly. Tommy Fleming could write us a brand new up to date National Anthem more appropriate to current conditions; a jaunty Country n’ Irish ditty entitled Counsel State of Mind. I can’t see a flaw.
I think we have finally hit upon something in which we could be genuine world leaders; whinging to a captive audience.
At last; a cast iron, bona fide, water tight no brainer.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Gobshites for Goalposts
So Aaron Ramsey, a young Arsenal soccer player broke his leg in a match last weekend. This weekend all of his teammates wore t shirts over their jerseys with the message “Get well soon Aaron” written boldly. There were several car park sized banners in the crowd with a likeness of Ramsey on them alongside messages such as “Do it for Aaron”. Is a bit of perspective not required here? I mean there are few occupational hazards in being a pampered, cosseted modern day professional footballer but breaking the odd bone is one of them.
Perhaps he has been whisked away to some top secret medical facility in the Arctic for treatment and the only way his teammates could communicate with him was via a message on their t shirts in the preamble to a televised game. But I doubt it. I’d say they will still see him every week during his rehabilitation. But that was no reason not to turn a trivial leg break into a monumental vainglorious melodrama to be played out on TV.
When the actual tackle took place we had players all over the pitch drop to their knees with head in hands, traumatized. Men, remember. Not under 12s. Your comrades supposedly, your brothers in battle, in the trenches. Having a little cry for themselves while their teammate writhes around on the ground. Then they have the temerity to wear slogans proclaiming their unconditional solidarity and brotherhood. I’m sure Ramsey could have used some of that solidarity and brotherhood last week when his shin was hanging on by the muscle. Vacuous, narcissistic gestures that showcase their depth of feeling and benevolence while the cameras happen to be rolling, that’s what these lads are more interested in.
Vilifying the opposition player when it was obviously accidental is another important weapon in the armory of the affronted. It is not part of some grand conspiracy to destabilize your club; it was a robust tackle that went slightly awry. Man up and deal with it. And take off your poxy pink tribute t shirts; I’m sure the chap will live to play again. At any rate if he is any kind of a competitor he was probably mortified by the display in the first place. It’s not like he’s lost his limbs to a roadside bomb or a drunk driver. Save your carefully contrived cocktail of outrage and compassion for a situation that merits it.
The infantilisation of sport proceeds full throttle.
Perhaps he has been whisked away to some top secret medical facility in the Arctic for treatment and the only way his teammates could communicate with him was via a message on their t shirts in the preamble to a televised game. But I doubt it. I’d say they will still see him every week during his rehabilitation. But that was no reason not to turn a trivial leg break into a monumental vainglorious melodrama to be played out on TV.
When the actual tackle took place we had players all over the pitch drop to their knees with head in hands, traumatized. Men, remember. Not under 12s. Your comrades supposedly, your brothers in battle, in the trenches. Having a little cry for themselves while their teammate writhes around on the ground. Then they have the temerity to wear slogans proclaiming their unconditional solidarity and brotherhood. I’m sure Ramsey could have used some of that solidarity and brotherhood last week when his shin was hanging on by the muscle. Vacuous, narcissistic gestures that showcase their depth of feeling and benevolence while the cameras happen to be rolling, that’s what these lads are more interested in.
Vilifying the opposition player when it was obviously accidental is another important weapon in the armory of the affronted. It is not part of some grand conspiracy to destabilize your club; it was a robust tackle that went slightly awry. Man up and deal with it. And take off your poxy pink tribute t shirts; I’m sure the chap will live to play again. At any rate if he is any kind of a competitor he was probably mortified by the display in the first place. It’s not like he’s lost his limbs to a roadside bomb or a drunk driver. Save your carefully contrived cocktail of outrage and compassion for a situation that merits it.
The infantilisation of sport proceeds full throttle.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Discover Ireland
Credit flow… restore liquidity… don’t bury your head in the sand… keep in contact with your mortgage provider… share the burden… 100% pay cut… living in the real world… zombie bank… we are where we are… the only show in town… reputational damage… in a wider context… toxic assets... the blame game… preempt the findings of the report… a matter for the parliamentary party… hangar 6 … catch 22… restore competitiveness… basket case… corporate governance… corporate enforcement... too big to fail... dig out... golden circles...complex issues... accountability… root and branch investigation… grassroots level… on the ground... rumblings… untenable… on my watch… the real economy… negative equity... subordinated bond holders... on the right road... turn the corner... grade inflation… deflation… emigration… immigration… in real terms… in terms of… with regard to… in relation to … in the context of… hangar 6… roll out... weeks not months... senior counsel… finish its work… metro north… capital projects… cold winters... flood plains... infrastructure… potholes… manslaughter… on the ground… man of the people… reshuffle… deckchairs… simply not sustainable... joined up thinking… commercial court... light entertainment… horse’s head… Cheltenham… War of Attrition… hangar 6… waste of space… hemorrhage… work to rule… in a broader context… at the end of the day... if it keeps on raining the Levy’s gonna break… cost of living… erosion… vis a vis… eurozone… living in the real world… the blogosphere… twitter… choose sides… the thing is is that… world class… centres of excellence… primary care… mandate… constituency work… go to the country… Malta… grit... the reality is... lower back pain… tough decisions… fiscal discipline… hangar 6… Section 23… National Institute for Regional & Spatial Analysis... occupancy rates… ghost estates… distressed loans... impaired loans... walking around money… vouched expenses… puts things in perspective… gender balance… hangar 6… on the ground... up in the air... going forward... cervical cancer screening... school prefabs... hospital trolleys...three year waiting lists... your country your call
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Crapello
It will be interesting to see if we get similar fanfare in future to that which surrounded the John Terry/ Wayne Bridge saga every time the ex girlfriend of a premier league footballer consummates a new relationship. Will teammates point them out during goal celebrations for special homage from the fans on each occasion a relationship comes to an end? Maybe we could have a special mention in the programme notes if the goalkeeper has just had a row with his missus. What about a minute’s silence before kick off if the striker’s squeeze has refused him oral at any point in the preceeding month? Black armbands could be worn if she has placed an all out carnal embargo on the poor fella.
By buying into this and stuff like it the general public are proving that they are incapable of resisting having their priorities dictated to them by the editors of tabloid newspapers. It is becoming ever easier for these people to configure the public agenda in a fashion which is conducive to shifting millions of newspapers.
I see well written outraged e mails being sent in to football websites on this issue so it seems even rational, thoughtful people can be duped and not just tabloid reading fuckclumps as we would like to think.
Why can’t we resist? Do we subliminally want something like this to come along every so often? Do we feel the intrigue enhances the drama of the football or is the football so dull that we need the intrigue to make it palatable? It was inevitable that a saga such as this would present itself to provide the only real test that the current England manager will face, that of his patience and ability to see, hear and be surrounded by bullshit.
And how did the fabled Capello do on this test? Well by stripping John Terry of the captaincy he, I’m afraid to say, has failed miserably. He could have broken the cycle and clearly stated that the agenda of Fleet Street has nothing to do with the agenda of his football team. But he didn’t. By doing what he did he reinforced the notion, the myth that the two are inextricably linked thereby providing infinite scope for future episodes of a similar nature. He fed the beast, validating the editors and buttressing their ideas about their own omnipotence. He could have emasculated them by doing nothing, by simply leaving John Terry where he was. But he didn’t.
And this was the one true test we would like to have seen him pass because those who can tell a player where to stand on a football pitch are ten a penny, those who can tell a culture where to go are very rare indeed. I’m sure he thought he was making a stand for high standards when in fact all he has done is perpetuate low ones.
And it’s all the more disappointing because we all thought he was the one. The no nonsense Italian who could part this sea of slurry with a wave of his hand. How wrong we were. The best man to lead England in South Africa won’t be leading England in South Africa. Rio Ferdinand will. The best man will be cowering and compromised under the laser beam of a bloodthirsty media. A media emboldened and empowered by his own manager. He has not been undermined by the convoluted plotting of an arch enemy but by his own manager.
Capello could have done his bit to cut off the oxygen of outrage that this sickening cycle depends upon. Instead he has cranked open the valve full whack. He just might go on to win the World Cup which would be fine had he not in the process blown the chance to do something really worthwhile. He is the one who should have been stripped. If only because we expected so much more.
By buying into this and stuff like it the general public are proving that they are incapable of resisting having their priorities dictated to them by the editors of tabloid newspapers. It is becoming ever easier for these people to configure the public agenda in a fashion which is conducive to shifting millions of newspapers.
I see well written outraged e mails being sent in to football websites on this issue so it seems even rational, thoughtful people can be duped and not just tabloid reading fuckclumps as we would like to think.
Why can’t we resist? Do we subliminally want something like this to come along every so often? Do we feel the intrigue enhances the drama of the football or is the football so dull that we need the intrigue to make it palatable? It was inevitable that a saga such as this would present itself to provide the only real test that the current England manager will face, that of his patience and ability to see, hear and be surrounded by bullshit.
And how did the fabled Capello do on this test? Well by stripping John Terry of the captaincy he, I’m afraid to say, has failed miserably. He could have broken the cycle and clearly stated that the agenda of Fleet Street has nothing to do with the agenda of his football team. But he didn’t. By doing what he did he reinforced the notion, the myth that the two are inextricably linked thereby providing infinite scope for future episodes of a similar nature. He fed the beast, validating the editors and buttressing their ideas about their own omnipotence. He could have emasculated them by doing nothing, by simply leaving John Terry where he was. But he didn’t.
And this was the one true test we would like to have seen him pass because those who can tell a player where to stand on a football pitch are ten a penny, those who can tell a culture where to go are very rare indeed. I’m sure he thought he was making a stand for high standards when in fact all he has done is perpetuate low ones.
And it’s all the more disappointing because we all thought he was the one. The no nonsense Italian who could part this sea of slurry with a wave of his hand. How wrong we were. The best man to lead England in South Africa won’t be leading England in South Africa. Rio Ferdinand will. The best man will be cowering and compromised under the laser beam of a bloodthirsty media. A media emboldened and empowered by his own manager. He has not been undermined by the convoluted plotting of an arch enemy but by his own manager.
Capello could have done his bit to cut off the oxygen of outrage that this sickening cycle depends upon. Instead he has cranked open the valve full whack. He just might go on to win the World Cup which would be fine had he not in the process blown the chance to do something really worthwhile. He is the one who should have been stripped. If only because we expected so much more.
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