ireland

RANDOMERS: AN APOLOGIA

By throwing-out time on a Friday night, the streets resemble a ripped seam or a Hieronymus Bosch painting come to life. The footpaths teem with swaying bodies and grimacing faces. Some are belligerent. Others are content. Others yet are lovelorn. Most are drunk. And some… Well, some of us are peckish since you ask. In the bars and clubs from whence we were ejected, dim lighting encouraged coyness and prevarication. Here however, in the unforgiving glare of the late night florescent chip shop, conversations tend to be blunt and to the point. Read the rest of this entry »

“YOU KNOW THE WAY LIFE ISN’T FAIR, RIGHT?”

My phone is ringing. It’s Aidan. I might have guessed. “You know the way life isn’t fair..?” he asks. As opening gambits go, this is one of his better efforts. (The last time he rang with bad news, he said “You were never too fond of that coffee table, were you?”)

Immediately, my mind races through all sorts of horrific possibilities. Aidan has run over my dog. Aidan has impregnated my sister. Aidan has murdered my pregnant sister and run over my dog while making his getaway… It’s almost a relief when he coughs up the truth. Read the rest of this article.

“As we mosey along the riverbank, it becomes clear that we’re not alone…”

We’re being discreetly observed from a distance by an officer from North Connacht Fisheries. Given how late in the day we’ve arrived, Gearoid explains, coupled with our relative youth, the officer likely suspects that we haven’t a permit to fish here. He has no business with us though, until our line is in the water, so he hangs back like an apache in an old Western stalking us from atop a nearby ridge. Read the rest of this article here.

BRENDAN THOMPSON GETTING HIS MICKEY CAUGHT IN HIS ZIP IN JUNIOR INFANTS: A CRITICAL ANALYSIS

Picture it: a vibrant tableau of rural Irish childhood in the 1980s. Two lines of infants, marshalled by a prissy, short-sighted nun, queue in a freezing corridor, waiting for their turn to use the toilet. There is some perfunctory jostling and pulling of hair. But for the most part, it is an unremarkable scene. On the wall behind, a portrait of Pope John Paul II beams down serenely. Read the rest of this entry »

I HEARD WONDERS (2008)

CROKE PARK, OCTOBER 10 2009, 9.42pm

For about 120 seconds there, it looked like I might just have picked the wrong week to quit drinking… Here’s some match analysis from Gazzetta della Sport: Read the rest of this entry »

“I’m not necessarily making the comparison, but don’t Page 3 models usually say the same thing…?”

Moving house today, I found an old magazine under my bed containing an interview I’d forgotten ever conducting. She was in costume when we did the interview… And yeah, I copped a peek. Read the rest of this article here.

“WILL YOU HAVE A DRINK THERE, KANYE?”


Our friend Sean is a recently qualified doctor. He’s a quiet, unassuming chap but, this afternoon, he’s copping an unusual amount of flack. The lads aren’t too impressed with the expensive watch he’s wearing.

“Flash bastard,” is Dec’s verdict.

“Ballyhaunis’s King of Bling,” reckons Brendan. Read the rest of this entry »

OBAMA = HITLER… OBVIOUSLY


There’s a line you’ll be familiar with from Yeats that has been repeated so many times, in so many contexts, as to have become rather hackneyed. You know, the one about the best lacking all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity. Its a cliche. But it’s hard to think of any recent debate to which that line might more appropriately have been applied than the push for healthcare reform currently underway in the U.S.

The eventual outcome there will be of borderline relevance on this side of the Atlantic. But there are a couple of observations that can already be made: Read the rest of this entry »

TEMPORARILY OUT OF SERVICE


My laptop is banjaxed. In a moment of reckless abandon, I sent it in to be repaired. It was only afterwards I thought, holy shit, this is how Gary Glitter went down… Read the rest of this entry »