REGRETS, I'VE HAD A FEW
Alcohol
and work don't mix, everyone knows that. You leave the drinking until
the day is over, it's far safer that way. Instead you wait until the
annual Christmas party which you mark by telling your boss what you
really think of him before getting off with the overweight girl from
accounts. You then spend the next few months avoiding both your boss
and your smitten paramour before leaving for pastures new. Once you
start your new job you make a pledge to never attend a 'works do',
but it's only a matter of time before you relent and find yourself
knee deep in the alcohol fueled debauchery. Eventually you will
learn your lesson but by that time you'll be nearing retirement age
and it'll hardly seem important any more.
And
although the members of Daíl Eireann are charged with running this
fine country they are, in essence, no different to any one of us.
They all harbour secret desires, they all secretly resent that
high-flying do-gooder and they all like a little drinkie or two.
However they usually have the cop on to do what the rest of us do and
leave the booze until the day's affairs have been completed. This
week though they all had to do a bit of overtime, the poor feckers.
And sure all that debating can be fierce tiring at the best of times.
Never mind the fact that they were mulling over one of the most
divisive topics in the history of the state, these lads and lasses
were thirsty!
But
seeing as they were working through the night and the accepted
closing times for Irish pubs of a week night is 11.30 they would just
have to go without a little stiffener to keep 'em going, right? Nope.
They have their own special bar don't ya know. A bar that can stay
open 'til whatever fuckin' hour it wants, and why not? So while the
abortion bill was being discussed at length by our beloved TDs more
than one of them was skulling back pints in the Daíl Bar. Beggars
belief doesn't it? In truth it was only the small minority, they're
not all idiots, but the very notion of having access to alcohol while
in the workplace is ludicrous. And the fact that this is not any old
workplace makes it even more so.
Thankfully
this should be the end of 'refreshments' in Daíl Eireann. Tom Barry
saw to that with his drunken mishandling of Aíne Barry which was
rather brilliantly caught on film. It makes you wonder what else goes
on away from the cameras though. After a few whiskeys even Mary
Harney is going to look good. Maybe the Daíl Bar should be left
intact but just with one small addition: a hidden camera network
which provides Big Brother style coverage of life inside.
GUANTANAMO BEY
There
was once a time when those in the public eye used their position for
the greater good. John Lennon famously staged a bed-in for peace,
Marlon Brando sent a Native American to collect his Oscar and Tommie
Smith and John Carlos championed the civil rights cause with their
famous black power salute. Nowadays the majority of celebrities have
far more important things on their mind. Oh yes you still have the
holier than thou Bono and a few others but most of these seem to take
as much satisfaction from the acclaim their actions bring than the
actions themselves. Yasiin Bey (AKA Mos Def) on the other hand is
slightly different.
Anyone
with even a passing interest in rap music will be aware of who Mos
Def is, his 1999 album Black on Both Sides stands up there with the
very best the genre has produced. But there has always been a lot
more to Mos than just music. Yes he is also an actor but it is the
content of his work which reveals the most about the 39 year-old
Brooklyn native. As part of a swathe of conscious rappers that came
to prominence in the late nineties Mos Def sought to educate as well
as entertain his listeners. His recent output hasn't quite lived up
to the high standard he set himself but while the strength of the
music has wavered the message hasn't.
I
haven't always agreed with the sentiments expressed by rappers like
Mos Def but I can't help but admire his most recent political
statement. The plight of those housed in Guantanamo Bay is not
something that overly concerns me, but maybe it should, I don't know.
However having watched Mos Def undertake a procedure which is part of
the daily life of Guantanamo's inmates I now find myself taking a
keen interest in their situation.
HO LEE FUK
It
was a prank so ludicrous that it would surely never come off. Were it
to happen on your local radio station you would scarcely believe it,
but Fox News? No way could they fall for it. But they did. Hook, line
and sinker.
The
plane crash in San Francisco this week shocked and saddened us all.
The death of three people as a result of the Aisiana Airlines Boeing
777 crash is a tragedy within itself, and the fact that one of those
deaths came at the wheels of a fire truck rushing to assist other
victims even more so. But when you watch the video below it's hard
not to stifle a laugh regardless of the subject matter. You know you
shouldn't but inevitably you succumb. You laugh in spite of yourself
and feel guilty for doing so. But then you console yourself with the
knowledge that it's not your fault those presenters and their
researchers are so dumb. Although the death count in the wake of this
disaster has remained mercifully low it may yet be added to as heads
will surely fall within the corridors of Fox News following this
monumental cock-up.
THESE ARE THE DAYS
Oh
remember that summer when we little lads, roasting it was! Every day
the sun split the stones. It seemed like it would last forever. Oh
them were the days. Well lo and behold here we are smack bang in the
middle of 'the days'. In years to come people will hark back to the
summer of 2013 as the benchmark against which all other summers must
compete. 'Tis hot but 'tis nothin' compared to '13, we'll say as we
mop the sweat from our brows, now that was a fuckin' summer. We'll
forget about the cloudy days, the chilly days and even the rainy
days. Twas three months of unrelenting heat the likes of which you
wouldn't get in the Sahara desert, animals were dropping dead in
front of our very eyes, our skin blistered the minute we went out the
door, the beer gardens were full from opening 'til closing. Some
feckin' summer that was.
That's
what I'll be tellin' 'em anyway. And why wouldn't I? We've already
had a week of it and by all accounts we have another week to come. A
vintage summer that's what it is. The kind of summer that'll go down
in legend. The year Ireland transformed from a rainy outcrop on the
Atlantic to a tropical island near the Equator. Everyone was so
happy. Everyone that is apart from the miserable bastards who spent
the whole time repeating the same phrase over and over again “It's
too hot”. Those people won't recount this year's heatwave with
quite the same enthusiasm as the rest of us. Instead they'll be sat
indoors with big miserable pusses on 'em recanting their mantra to
anyone who'll listen “It's too hot.”
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