National:
Galway. Plane crash. Two dead. Seven injured.
Dublin. History museum. Stairs collapse. Makes history. 11 injured.
Dun Laoighre. More bad weather. Little boats. Topple over. 15 injured. None seriously.
Vincent Brown. Rte Radio. Gets the chop. John Kelly. Vincent Brown. Whose next?
International:
Rwanda. Army major. 20 years in jail. Murder. Belgian troops. Part of UN. Back in 1994. Nasty. Genocide. Today. Darfur. Murder. Sudanese troops. Impotent UN. No oil. No action. African lives. Worth less. Than those in the West. Evidence? 3 year old. Abducted in Nigeria. British, white. Gets reported. African kids. Dying. Child soldiers. Child workers. Silence.
Brazil. Aids drug. 30% cost of old drug. Brazil broke trade pact. Imports from India. Prices down. Deaths down.
Sport:
United. Might sign Tevez. Might not. Loads of money. Or none. Dodgy dealings. Who knows.
Sheffield United. Appeal. Tevez decision. High court. Getting messy.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
The news
National:
Bertie Ahern. Taoiseach. Speech. Economy. Suicide joke. Figure of speech. Apologises. Suicide groups. Angry. No-one listens. Bertie jokes. People listen.
Dublin. Stillorgan. Man shot. Two arrested. Man wounded, seriously.
International:
Alan Johnson. BBC journalist. Gaza Strip. 114 days. Kidnapped. Free. Safe and well. Thankful. Hamas. Claim credit. New Labour. Credit Hamas. Americans. Very quiet.
Sport:
Liverpool. Sign Fernando Torres. Lots of money. Most expensive Spaniard. Most expensive Scouser.
Wimbledon. Raining on and off. Henin beat Serena. Rafa beat someone. Five days. Five sets.
Rafa Benitez. Grows goattee. Dodgy.
Bertie Ahern. Taoiseach. Speech. Economy. Suicide joke. Figure of speech. Apologises. Suicide groups. Angry. No-one listens. Bertie jokes. People listen.
Dublin. Stillorgan. Man shot. Two arrested. Man wounded, seriously.
International:
Alan Johnson. BBC journalist. Gaza Strip. 114 days. Kidnapped. Free. Safe and well. Thankful. Hamas. Claim credit. New Labour. Credit Hamas. Americans. Very quiet.
Sport:
Liverpool. Sign Fernando Torres. Lots of money. Most expensive Spaniard. Most expensive Scouser.
Wimbledon. Raining on and off. Henin beat Serena. Rafa beat someone. Five days. Five sets.
Rafa Benitez. Grows goattee. Dodgy.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
The news
Irish News:
Dublin. Bertie Ahern. Taoiseach. Parliament. Drugs find. Cork. Bad weather. Heavy rain. Boat sank. Cocaine everywhere. Floating. More than a ton. Recovered. Unexpected. Sinking boat. Crucial hint.
Agbonlohors. Deportation. Autism. Nigeria. Appeal dropped. Deportation order stands. Plane ordered. 19 July.
International:
London. Attempted bombers. Eight in custody. Links to NHS. Everybody baffled. Australia. Man held. Apparent connection.
Sport:
Wimbledon. Rain. No strawberries. Lots of stoppages. Mauresmo. Defending champion. Lesbian. Eliminated.
Weather:
Dublin. Shite. Summer. Second best season. After winter. More sun then.
Dublin. Bertie Ahern. Taoiseach. Parliament. Drugs find. Cork. Bad weather. Heavy rain. Boat sank. Cocaine everywhere. Floating. More than a ton. Recovered. Unexpected. Sinking boat. Crucial hint.
Agbonlohors. Deportation. Autism. Nigeria. Appeal dropped. Deportation order stands. Plane ordered. 19 July.
International:
London. Attempted bombers. Eight in custody. Links to NHS. Everybody baffled. Australia. Man held. Apparent connection.
Sport:
Wimbledon. Rain. No strawberries. Lots of stoppages. Mauresmo. Defending champion. Lesbian. Eliminated.
Weather:
Dublin. Shite. Summer. Second best season. After winter. More sun then.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Boycott HMV
Ok so some people are boycotting Israel and the Israelis are boycotting Hamas and somebody has decided that giving TONY BLAIR A JOB IN THE MIDDLE EAST is an idea that won't lead to extensive boycotts...and on this same theme, but with a little more moral certainty, I offer you a new, undeniably just boycott.
Boycott HMV on Grafton Street. In the last week or so these people, these tossers have been putting speakers outside their shop blaring LOUD MUSIC up and down the street. Of course the racket attracts attention, as is its aim, and to some extent, maybe it attracts some people to its shop; it repels me.
It's a horribly cynical move that disrupts the vague but genuine atmosphere of Dublin's busiest shopping street. Go away. I want to walk along those red bricks and listen to flower sellers and beggers and buskers and tourists asking aloud: where is the Spire? I want to feel like I'm outside and I shouldn't have to beg for it.
Until they remove the noise they won't get another penny out of me. I'm taking a stand on this. I might even do up some fancy badge or wristband (remember them! more cynical marketing aimed at exploiting the latent human sympathies of wealthy westeners!).
Boycott HMV on Grafton Street. In the last week or so these people, these tossers have been putting speakers outside their shop blaring LOUD MUSIC up and down the street. Of course the racket attracts attention, as is its aim, and to some extent, maybe it attracts some people to its shop; it repels me.
It's a horribly cynical move that disrupts the vague but genuine atmosphere of Dublin's busiest shopping street. Go away. I want to walk along those red bricks and listen to flower sellers and beggers and buskers and tourists asking aloud: where is the Spire? I want to feel like I'm outside and I shouldn't have to beg for it.
Until they remove the noise they won't get another penny out of me. I'm taking a stand on this. I might even do up some fancy badge or wristband (remember them! more cynical marketing aimed at exploiting the latent human sympathies of wealthy westeners!).
Monday, June 18, 2007
It's 2007 in Dublin on a Sunday evening
The bus driver missed his turn. It was Sunday. We were going along a motorway, the evening time, getting cold. He missed his turn off. He'll take the next one, I thought. Net result, I walk for five or maybe ten minutes more than I'd planned. Hey. It was Sunday. The week coming to a happy end. The Dubs won. No need to fret.
Up ahead of me on the bus, it was an old one because Dublin Bus don't send the posh buses out to Dublin West, it was old and green and rickety and there was just me and some old woman and a family up ahead of me.
The woman head of the family blew her top.
-You missed the turn, she screamed.
The bus driver mumbled something back.
-You blacks always fuckin do this, she said. What's your fuckin number, I'm sick of you black cunts, what's your fucking number I wanna report you.
And I'm thinking alright lady that's a bit much. And I'm gonna say something but before I can she screams to me.
-These fuckin blacks I'm sick of them. Every fuckin week they do this.
She was burning up with rage. A peroxide blonde. Well turned out in her Sunday best. High pitched. Accent stomping all over her etiquette. Probably works local. Her son about 6 sitting there, grinning. Her husband turned out like a Burtons advertisement, egging her on. This woman. I'm thinking - you're a fuckin racist. I don't wanna judge her. I don't excuse that horrible shit but fair play - people lose their temper. But she wasn't finished. And her husband hadn't started.
Go back to the jungle, he shouted, outdoing his wife for wit and virulence. The son, only a youngfella, looked down the bus, nervous, afraid to challenge his mother, but afraid to cheer her on. I starred at him. But I didn't budge. I knew it was all wrong, of course I did. But that psycho and her husband wanted to kick someone's head in and I've been there before. No thanks.
We pull up to the stop and as he's getting out the husband tells the bus driver to go back to the jungle. He tells him how lucky he is that he doesn't kick his head in. He starts making monkey noises. It's 2007. It's 1987. We're at an English football match. Everton fans are throwing bananas at John Barnes and making monkey noises. It's 1987.
It's 2007.
Hands up. I bottled it. I did the best I could with what I had. I told the husband as we were getting off to fuck off, that he'd gone way too far. Your man just made a mistake. I told the bus driver I was sorry he had to listen to that shit. He said thanks man and closed the door.
Up ahead of me on the bus, it was an old one because Dublin Bus don't send the posh buses out to Dublin West, it was old and green and rickety and there was just me and some old woman and a family up ahead of me.
The woman head of the family blew her top.
-You missed the turn, she screamed.
The bus driver mumbled something back.
-You blacks always fuckin do this, she said. What's your fuckin number, I'm sick of you black cunts, what's your fucking number I wanna report you.
And I'm thinking alright lady that's a bit much. And I'm gonna say something but before I can she screams to me.
-These fuckin blacks I'm sick of them. Every fuckin week they do this.
She was burning up with rage. A peroxide blonde. Well turned out in her Sunday best. High pitched. Accent stomping all over her etiquette. Probably works local. Her son about 6 sitting there, grinning. Her husband turned out like a Burtons advertisement, egging her on. This woman. I'm thinking - you're a fuckin racist. I don't wanna judge her. I don't excuse that horrible shit but fair play - people lose their temper. But she wasn't finished. And her husband hadn't started.
Go back to the jungle, he shouted, outdoing his wife for wit and virulence. The son, only a youngfella, looked down the bus, nervous, afraid to challenge his mother, but afraid to cheer her on. I starred at him. But I didn't budge. I knew it was all wrong, of course I did. But that psycho and her husband wanted to kick someone's head in and I've been there before. No thanks.
We pull up to the stop and as he's getting out the husband tells the bus driver to go back to the jungle. He tells him how lucky he is that he doesn't kick his head in. He starts making monkey noises. It's 2007. It's 1987. We're at an English football match. Everton fans are throwing bananas at John Barnes and making monkey noises. It's 1987.
It's 2007.
Hands up. I bottled it. I did the best I could with what I had. I told the husband as we were getting off to fuck off, that he'd gone way too far. Your man just made a mistake. I told the bus driver I was sorry he had to listen to that shit. He said thanks man and closed the door.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
