Advent Calendar 2009: December 2nd – Floods December 2, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Advent, Ireland, Latest News.Tags: Dublin, Ireland, RTE, Advent, News, Calendar, December, Flood, Sallins, Waterways, Tsunami, Journalism, Reader's Digest, Canoe, VW Polo, Ballinasloe, Kildare, Train
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Today I felt a little like the President visiting the scene of some disaster, touring the country and shaking my head in sympathy at the remains of people’s lives. Yes, I took the train from Kildare to Dublin.
Now, before any of you bite my head off or suggest I’m being harsh on the intervening landscape, I’d like to remind you all that there was massive flooding in Ireland during the past week. Roads were turned into raging torrents (including, without the faintest whiff of irony, River Street in Ballinasloe), cars were carried away, houses became aquaria and those people who make sandbags were the only ones smiling. One of the areas worst hit was a housing estate in Sallins – along the train line - called The Waterways (at least God has a sense of humour…). There, the water was so high it covered entire doorways and cars, lifting wheelie bins and scattering them to the four winds and leaving the place in a bit of a mess really.
It was slightly macabre of us, but as the train passed The Waterways, everyone in the carriage stood up to get a better glimpse of the carnage. There was rubbish everywhere, large pools still remained, cars were plonked in the middle of lawns – it was like the aftermath of a bomb. Farther along the line, entire fields were turned into lakes, bunkers on golf courses were now water-hazards and the sheep were so weighed down with water they couldn’t move – everyone knows wool is best hand-washed.
As is the case whenever floods strike, there were three particular pieces of news footage in plentiful supply throughout the week:
First, that of the annoying students in wet-suits who think it’s hilarious to body-board down the road in the wake of a council vehicle wading through the water; this is usually accompanied by the newsreader lightly saying “While the floods were certainly causing many people headaches, not EVERYONE seemed to mind.” No, but then the sort of people who body-board in the street are the sort who bleach their hair, wear shorts in the winter, buy roof racks for their VW Polos and pretend to be surfing experts when in reality the farthest they’ve ever surfed is to the nearest porn website on the ‘net.
Second, that of the prick with the canoe who is only too fucking delighted to bring it out from the shed and piss everyone else on the street off by rowing past them all as they stand stranded on their cars – he’s thinking “Ha! Not so stupid now, am I? They all said I was a tit for buying this on special offer out of Reader’s Digest. Well, look who’s the tit now!” To be honest sir, you’re still a tit. You have a canoe which you use only in the case of a natural disaster. That’s a bit like buying a spaceship in case the end of the world happens anytime soon.
And thirdly, there was the sight of news reporters in boots splish-splashing about in water up to their knees. What producer in their right mind says: “Look Mark, we’re just afraid the viewer won’t feel close enough to the action if you’re just on the EDGE of the flood. We’d like you to walk into the MIDDLE of it – it just ADDS something…” There must be a room in RTÉ just full of wellies for the news reporters. How would those eejits have dealt with the tsunami? “Mark, standing on top of that tall building isn’t doing it for us, could you borrow a surf-board from those bleach-blonde students with the Polo and actually deliver your report from atop the oncoming tidal wave?”
There is a serious point to all this, of course. It demonstrates that our planning process has failed us, that developers have time and again ignored traditional flood plains, that local councils have not adequately maintained our waterways and that the concretization of Ireland is beginning to have a major bearing on our natural drainage. That, or we just need one massive national tampon.
Leinster Reach New Heights May 3, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Ireland, Rugby.Tags: Alan Gaffney, BOD, Brian O'Driscoll, Brian Roche, British and Irish Lions, Captain, Chris Whittaker, Cork, Croke Park, Doug Howlett, Dublin, Edinburgh, Felipe Contempomi, France, Girvan Dempsey, Gordon Darcy, Grand Slam, Green Party, Harlequins, Heineken Cup, IRB, Ireland, IRFU, Isa Nacewa, Jonathan Sexton, Jones Road, Keith Earls, Kerry, Kilkenny, Lansdowne Road, Leinster, Lifemi Mafi, Luke Fitzgerald, Magners League, Malcolm O'Kelly, Michael Cheika, Munster, Paul O'Connell, Player Of The Year, Rocky Elsom, Ronan O'Gara, Rugby, Semi Final, Shane Horgan, Shane Jennings, Six Nations, Stan Wright, Stoop, The Golden Generation, Tony McGahan, Twickenhem, Wales
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Oh now, today was some day.
It’s not easy to put into words the sense of occasion which was thick in the air at Croke Park on May 2nd 2009. Right from the moment I left my house and boarded a heaving Luas at 2:30pm in the afternoon to the final whistle and subsequent gracious wishes of good luck from many a deflated Munster fan, it was always going to be a special day. An Irish team was guaranteed to reach the Heineken Cup Final; a world record for attendance at a rugby union club match was about to be set; the sun was beaming down; the banter was brisk along Jones’ Road; the talk of revenge for 2006 and two drubbings this season was the spur for Leinster; the defence of their hard-won crown egged Munster on. Before this game began, there was so much to hint at a glorious encounter.
If the early 90s saw Jackie’s army conquer the world in terms of support if not actual silverware, the Golden Generation have certainly made the naughties their own, pocketing trophy after trophy and finally delivering on the years of unfulfilled promise with a Grand Slam this year. We have already been spoilt this year with that historic victory over Wales, but then Munster kept the Magner’s League “in the family” last weekend so the crowd which descended on Croker today were hungry for another display of Irish rugby’s rude health. And boy, did they get it.
The first manifestation came off the pitch. The IRFU outdid themselves with the arrangement of the ticket allocations, the banks of fans arranged in a patchwork around the stands - red, blue, red, blue. It was as dramatic a sight as one could imagine. The stadium was awash with the two colours and with little to no interloping – it seems that Leinster fans have learnt their lesson and tickets will never be allowed to slither south again as happened so dramatically in 2006.
Entering Lansdowne Road’s North Terrace that day, I was blown away by the red invasion, an obvious portent of things to come. Since then, however, Leinster’s season ticket ranks have trebled and the support at matches has become more vocal, more passionate, more (dare I say) Munster-like. I had the pleasure to be part of the small band – about 2,500 – who travelled to Twickenhem Stoop for the gritty win over Harlequins 3 weeks ago and the Leinster travelling support was nothing short of magnificent, singing non-stop, standing for the entire game, drowning out the home support 4 times greater in number. It was as passionate as the team’s defence that day and it was clear that that defence would be necessary again today if Leinster were to overcome the odds against the heavy favourites. However, their 16th man was not going to be found wanting.
10 minutes before kick-off, there were no streams of people coming in through the entrance-ways: The stadium was already full. The roars, the flags waving, the march of the drummers and brass players towards each other – every little detail built up the pre-match atmosphere to an incredible high. We Irish love our sport and we love our all-Irish, inter-parish rivalry more than most. This was it – Dublin v Kerry, Cork v Kilkenny, the arch-nemeses facing up to each other with scores to settle.
But enough preamble. What happened?
Leinster 25 - 6 Munster
Wow.
Now, I did not see that coming. No one did. Not even Michael Cheika’s most orgiastic of wet-dreams could have sprung this fantasy. Not even the most die-hard of Leinster fans – and those who thought that they could even win were few and far between, many dreading another Munster steamrolling – could have envisaged a display like today’s.
This was one of those matches which simply pulsated from start to finish, dragged every watching soul around in the mud behind it, shoved their heads underwater for unfeasibly long periods of times and flung them, gasping for air, miles skyward with no inkling of when they might land. There was the underlying edge, the extra intensity local rivals feel when pitted together. There was the O’Connell over O’Driscoll Lions captaincy call. There was the memories of the clash at Lansdowne Road. The context was matched by an awesome game, full of hard running, hard tackling, hard yards and hard luck.
The scoreline is misleading. Munster battered at Leinster’s defensive line all day, dominating the lineout, retaining possession like a sponge retains water, recycling and recycling like a crazed Green Party member. The offloading, the pick-and-go, the abrasive backline – Munster at their aggressive best were certainly there. The thing is, the unstoppable force met an immovable object in the Leinster team. The defence against Harelquins in that second half, as wave after wave of attack was weathered, was surpassed in this performance. The entire team made itself felt. There were superb try-saving scrags by Luke Fitzgerald and the man-of-the-match (although officially it was O’Driscoll, I don’t know that anyone would argue against this) Rocky Elsom. Gordon Darcy was out to prove a point to the Lions selectors and certainly delivered his best game in 2 years. Chris Whittaker and Felipe Contempomi, before his sad exit, controlled the game and were unforgiving in defence. Jennings, Heaslip, O’Kelly, even Stan The Man delivered his finest display in the blue.
Brian O’Driscoll was, of course, at his peak. The man is, without doubt, a rugby legend. Two years ago he was being written off – no pace, missing tackles, poor kicking, blah blah blah. Over the hill, they said.
Well, what do they know? Sweet F. All it would appear. Paul O’Connell might be the Lions Captain, and maybe deservedly, but come the IRB Player Of The Year Award, I would be handing the trophy to O’Driscoll right now. He has been simply superhuman this year. He is as wily as he ever was – think of his line-breaking try against France, his chip, chase, gather and near-try against Harlequins, his brilliant pass to Nacewa to set up Darcy’s first try. He is the hardest tackling, hardest rucking back in world rugby bar none, worth two number sevens. He has lost some of the extra muscle which he never needed in the first place and burst away from the entire Munster team to score Leinster’s third try today. He is a Grand Slam winning captain, an exceptional captain and, should he cap his list of honours with a Heineken Cup and a Lions Tour win, he will be safely enrolled as Ireland’s greatest ever player. He is already Leinster’s. God Bless BOD.
Leinster scored two excellently-worked tries apart from Briano’s breakaway, the backline rediscovering its seemingly misplaced spark, and credit to Alan Gaffney. Munster’s backline is, without question, far better than it was in 2006, and Keith Earls and Doug Howlett always threatened, but Lifemi Mafi did Leinster a bit of a favour with his incorrigible tendency to step back inside today. Facing a midfield of Gordon Darcy and Brian O’Driscoll, Mafi thought his best bet was to continually charge at them. Grist to the mill, Lifemi.
The battle of the outhalves didn’t materialise as people had expected with Dr. Phil leaving the field after he contributed one peach of a drog-goal. Instead, it was left to his replacement, Jonathan Sexton, a player who has occasionally flattered to deceive, to give the performance of a lifetime. Jonno was excellent, directing the game like O’Gara himself, kicking well, passing swiftly, making good, clear calls. We may at last have a successor to the Irish number 10 shirt. O’Gara was quite muted all day, bearing the brunt of several attacks down his channel and hustled all day by Shane Jennings.
Back in November, when Munster humbled Leinster at the RDS 18-0, I told Brian Roche, a Munster friend of mine, that I fel that the result would have been the exact opposite had Leinster had O’Gara. I simply didn’t feel the gap was that wide. A few weeks ago, Munster pasted Leinster, again without Leinster playing all that badly. There was still something missing. Today, finally, Les Bleux found it. I’m not going to say it was passion because, contrary to what many observers might say, I think this is a Leinster team which has had a drive about it for some time but not always the execution. Certainly, the defeat in Lansdowne in 2006 has been a catalyst for the new, improved Leinster.
No, what Leinster found today was something like the Cowardly Lion’s courage. They had it all along, they just needed to see that. The Munster Men have been at the top of the game in Ireland for so long. Leinster has been slow to grow, always that step behind. They needed to stop asking why this was so. They needed to stop questioning themselves. They needed to realise exactly how good they were – not in a self-congratulatory way, but as part of thinking and playing like winners. Winners – like Munster – don’t EXPECT victory. They demand it. It is not to be granted, it is to be grasped. Leinster, as players, are not inferior to Munster, but as a team in the past errors and inconsistencies have let them down. Today was a perfect 10 display. There could be hardly a fault picked out in Leinster, apart from some poor lineout work.
And what a great thing it is too. Munster have bred this monster which ate up their Heineken Cup hopes this year. Their success has demanded that Leinster raise their game. The Munster ethos which has permeated to the national team also bled into the Leinster psyche. Today was the denoument. There would be no point in Munster dominating Irish and European rugby – we NEED Leinster to emulate them. The path they have trampled down is the one which Leinster have taken. Success breeds success as they say, and often it is the success of your rivals which inspires ones own triumphs – look at the English teams in the Champions League since Liverpool’s win in 2005. Brian O’Driscoll, Girvan Dempsey, Shane Horgan and others must have been green-eyed as they witnessed Munster taking home two European Cups. That can only have been the basis for the drive in the Leinster team today.
There is nothing better than watching two teams play a great game of rugby. One thing which is better though is watching two teams play a great game of rugby in a great setting with two great sets of fans and one great rivalry behind it all. Ireland should be so proud of its rugby players. The whole country has suffered the highs and lows with Munster, loving their passion and prowess unconditionally. Today, we saw first-hand the fruits this love has borne – a second, great rugby team which, with the sort of will and vigour and great skill we saw today, is worthy of such love too. It will be a love hard-earned but much deserved – Munster had to endure 2 lost finals, Leinster finally won a semi-final today at the fourth time of asking. And what a great feeling it would be for Munster’s crown to pass to the heads of Leinster on May 23rd. It would be hard to top today, but that might just do it.
Daylight Savings And Earth Hour March 28, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Human Nature, Ireland, Latest News.Tags: Ciaran Clarke, Clocks Go Forward, Daylight Savings, Earth Hour, Electricity, Environment, Esat, Grand Canal Dock, Green Living, Light Pollution, Spin 103
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For those of you who aren’t sure, yes, we lose an hour at 1am on Sunday. Sorry folks. Yes, I know, it’s a pain. I have an essay to complete and one less hour in which to complete it. At least you have a heads-up. I got a mildly panicky text from a friend of mine, Ciaran, three full weeks ago in which he expressed his shock over the fact that the clocks were to go forward that night. I toyed with the notion of letting him live his life an hour ahead of the rest of us for a few days before sense prevailed and I reassured him that it was not until the end of March. So, tonight’s the night, let us all moan about our sleep-deprived existences for the next week.
Another, more welcome, heads-up: Today sees the second annual Earth Hour taking place. Homes and businesses all across the world are turning their lights down or off, switching off the tv and computer and generally saving huge amounts on their electricity bills, in an effort to demonstrate the massive waste caused by negligient electricity use and the increasing effects of light pollution. It is a cause of constant disgust for me when, walking home at night, I pass shops and offices which are clearly empty for the night yet which leave lights on. There is an Esat office block down by Grand Canal Dock, near Spin 103, which ALWAYS has its entire lighting rig lit – they are one of many. It’s simply not good enough.
People may mock the whole green approach to daily living but there is a serious point here. I go around turning lights off in my house after my brother because they don’t need to be on, pure and simple. Not only is it bad for the environment but it’s a total waste of money. If this second reason is the one which people will react to, so be it, whatever it takes to get this message across. Some lazy and selfish individuals will yawn, stretch, flick on another light switch, leave the fridge open and say “Well, I’m not going to be around when the world falls apart anyway”. Well, you know what? At the rate we’re disposing of our natural resources, that planetary collapse is coming sooner than you think.
dum-Dum-DUM!
Scare-mongering over. One hour. That’s all. Just turn the fecking light off.
Click.
A Moment Of National Crisis March 27, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Ireland, Latest News, Politics.Tags: Brian Cowen, Bull Island, Cathal Goan, Conor Casby, Gardaí, Hall's Pictorial Weekly, Irish Government, John O'Donohue, Michael Kennedy, National Gallery Of Irish, Newstalk 106, Nude Portraits, Pearse Street, Ray Darcy, RHA, RTE, Scrap Saturday, Taoiseach, The Dáil, The Emergency, Today FM, Victoria's Secret, Wonderbra
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http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=61052337940
The above is the link to one of at least 3 Facebook groups calling for the Gardaí and Irish Government to leave Conor Casby alone. Casby is the guerilla artist who, last week, placed unofficial nude caricatures of the Taoiseach, Brian Cowen on the walls of the National Gallery of Ireland and the RHA. The goverment forced RTE to apologise for their coverage of the story – and the opposition parties were then prevented from raising the issue in the Dáil - while the Gardaí were directed to find the artist responsible, leading them to demand his contact details from Today FM’s Ray Darcy Show – he had been in contact with the show and Gardaí questioned the station over its coverage of the issue. Casby presented himself voluntarily to Pearse Street Garda Station and, it seems, he is unlikely to be charged. His alleged crimes, apparently, the source of all this furore, are criminal damage, indecency and incitement to hatred.
Criminal Damage?! Hammering a nail into a wall?! Indecency?! In an art gallery chock full of nudes, in a modern world where Victoria’s Secret and Wonderbra can advertise freely?! Incitement to hatred?! In the name of all that is sacred, what the shitting bollocks tit is that supposed to mean?!?! Apologies for the profanity, but this story has really made me very angry (Oh really Barry? says you). One of the great gifts Irish people have is a great sense of humour and the country has a fine tradition of political satire. From Hall’s Pictorial Weekly to Scrap Saturday, Bull Island to Newstalk’s The Emergency, Irish people have laughed at our politicians for decades. I imagine Mr. Cowen would raise a belly-laugh rather than a witch-hunt were he in opposition and Enda Kenny was the focus of ridicule. What is more, Martyn Turner daily publishes caricatures poking fun at the political life of this country, yet there is no sign of a police investigation. If Conor Casby’s actions are incitement to hatred, then Martyn Turner has been getting away with it for years.
The world economy is in a slump, Irish people are losing their jobs at a level not seen for a long time, the outlook for the next twelve months is grim and the upcoming emergency budget is set to be a harsh one. The government are bound to be unpopular, sorry, but it’s a reality you face in times like these. What could have been a funny footnote in our Sunday papers has been allowed to snowball. When it would have been best – and, perhaps, most endearing - of Fianna Fáil and Brian Cowen to laugh along with the joke (you know, some witty joke about it being the only time he would be caught with his pants down), they flew off the handle. Michael Kennedy called upon Cathal Goan, Director General of RTE, to consider his position. Fianna Fáil ordered an apology. John O’Donohue, the Ceann Comhairle (speaker of the house), refused to let the issue be discussed when the opposition wanted to raise it. The Gardaí raided an independent radio station. Honestly, as someone pointed out on Facebook, if they had been this swift to knock on the doors of the banks, perhaps we would be in a better mood as a country. As it is, this is a funny story and the government has really had a sense of humour failure. If they can’t laugh at themselves, I can only imagine how frowny they get when they look at our national finances.
For God’s sake, lighten up. Even I find this particular piece of toilet humour funny.
PS: The Times Online tells me no nails were used. So, one less crime committed. They might commute his sentence from the death penalty to life in prison so.
A Golden Age Of Now And Then March 23, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Arts, Ireland, Rugby, Television.Tags: Anna Manahan, Aston Villa, Bernard Dunne, Dawson Street, Fulham, Grand Slam, Hull, Ireland, Jack Kyle, Liverpool, Manchester United, Manus Halligan, Martin McDonagh, Middlesborough, Millenium Stadium, Premiership, RTE, The Beauty Queen Of Leenane, Tony Award, West Ham
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The Masses On Dawson Street for the Grand Slam Homecoming
I don’t think there is anything I can add to the paragraphs and paragraphs which have been and will continue to be written about the Miracle Of The Millenium Stadium. The manner in which the mythic Grand Slam was won by Ireland yesterday made it all the more emotional. To be so close to clinching a historic victory only to stare into the abyss of despair right at the moment of triumph – the human capacity for emotional yo-yoing was seriously tested. To witness Bernard Dunne seal a world title a few hours later simply reinforced the old adage: What’s seldom is wonderful. Ireland is such a small country, our triumphs so unlikely as to be so much sweeter. It was a joy to be on Dawson Street today to welcome the team and coaches home – as Jack Kyle said yesterday, they will always be Grand Slam winners, just like him.
Oh, and my €10 bet with Manus on the outcome of the Premier League this year remains very much still on – Liverpool 5-0 Aston Villa. Hot on the heels of the demolition of ManYoo in their Theatre Of Nightmares last week, it just makes you wonder how we’re still behind in this chase. I blame Hull, Fulham, West Ham, ‘Boro, etc.
I watched a beautiful documentary on the late, great Anna Manahan tonight – stuck in the graveyard slot by RTE, like most of their best broadcasts. Filmed 4 years ago, the piece was rerun in tribute to the actress who died two weeks ago. It was a wonderfully simple documentary, meandering about Anna’s past and present, showing a stage great in her eighties, the weight of parts played, loves lost, years gone by. She reminded me a lot of my grandmother, that generation of Irish ladies in particular who speak plainly yet poetically, who grew up with “a certain type of way of behaving”, who ask why you won’t have tea, who delve into the immeasurable recesses of their memories to pick out a name, a place, a story they thought they’d lost. Watching her shocked reaction in the footage of her Tony Award win for “The Beauty Queen Of Leenane” brought a tear to my eye. To see someone who has lived such a long life and had such a successful career still living with her two brothers in a modest house, still revelling in afternoons spent in her garden staring at the sky or talking to her near-blind cat, it has a different emotional impact to sporting euphoria. It makes you think about how we deal with life, how we approach age, how we think about those older than ourselves. Anna spoke of having bought the plot next to her eldest sister’s grave years ago in preparation for her
- The trophy in safe hands with Messrs. O’Driscoll and Kidney.
own passing – a sort of pragmatism peculiar to those who have been schooled for half a century in the theatre, for those who lived a generation or two away from this, for those who probably witnessed that last Grand Slam triumph, 61 years ago.
Looking Inside Oneself March 9, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Arts, College, Human Nature, Ireland, Latest News, Life.Tags: Aarhus, Audrey II, Black Market, BODIES...The Exhibition, Body Snatching, Burke and Hare, China, Danny Forde, DU Players, Dublin, Falun Dafa, Falun Gong, Grave Robbing, Human Rights, Jayne Stynes, Little Shop Of Horrors, Polymer, Premier Exhibitions, Seamus Heaney, Skid Row, Stone Age, The Ambassador, The Tollund Man
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Audrey II looming over Mum, Dad and me on the set of "Little Shop Of Horrors".
I’ve been quite conspicuous by my absence from this blog for a wee while. One of the main reasons was that I was directing “Little Shop Of Horrors” in DU Players which ran from February 17th to 21st. I had an absolute blast and it was a joy watching everything coming together and to life before my – very heavy and sleep-deprived – eyes. I had a wonderful co-director in the immensely talented Jayne Stynes and it was great to have someone to bounce ideas off and turn to for much-needed hugs and confectionary when things got a bit much! The crew were tireless, especially over the weekend before the show, in their efforts to create a bleak Skid Row and the little shop itself. The band, perched precariously on a scaffold 7 feet above the stage, were so talented and led by my good friend and fellow juice-drinker Danny Forde. The cast members themselves made me – and everyone else – laugh uncontrollably with their comic timing but they also were, to a man, brilliant in their singing and dancing too, deserving the full houses and standing ovations which came their way. Shout out to Aaron, Seán and Ruairí too for making that Mean Green Mother, Audrey II, rock out and chow down. So, if I’ve been away, it was for a good reason!
“Bodies, The Exhibition” – or “BODIES…The Exhibition”, as I believe the garbled syntax of the display runs - has been in Dublin’s Ambassador Theatre lately. A strange venue for a science exhibition, was my initial thought. Then I discovered the exact nature of the show. What on the posters about Dublin looked like very good clay likenesses of the stripped human form turned out to be actual preserved human remains. I was more than a little disturbed by this discovery, and the fact that they were being displayed in poses such as performing a bicycle kick or conducting an orchestra made it all-the-more macabre. The controversy surrounding this exhibition must surely be in some way behind the choice of venue – a smaller Dublin theatre and music venue rather than one of the museums.
I decided to do some more exploration and visited the BODIES website. I found a rather disturbing note in their FAQs. The FAQ reads: “Q: Where do the full body specimens come from? A: The full body specimens are persons who lived in China and died of natural causes. After the bodies were unclaimed at death, pursuant to Chinese law, they were ultimately delivered to a medical school for education and research. Where known, information about the identities, medical histories and causes of death is kept strictly confidential”. (http://www.bodiestheexhibition.com/bodies.html)
One has to ask about the morality in all this. These are unidentified bodies of people who may not have granted permission for their use in such an extraordinary way after death, let alone donated their bodies to science. Their relatives also have no idea that their loved ones are travelling the world in an sensationalised educational freak-show. How can one feel comfortable about the presentation of a corpse in a sporting pose when in fact they may never have played sport (Chinese residents are unlikely to have played American football), or as conducting an orchestra when they may have been fans of rap rather than classical? You may think that’s a flippant point, but it is really creating a fiction, a different life for strangers. It invades their previous existence and plonks them into a fishbowl with new props and surroundings, destroying their life-stories to tell a new, gaudy one. The claim that the bodies are “tastefully displayed” is sickening and hollow.
Furthermore, and more chillingly, there is a black market in the trade of corpses of executed, tortured or starved prisoners based in that country, with bodies fetching about $300 apiece. China’s human rights abuses are a matter of concern for the whole of humanity, yet we are blissfully unaware and uninformed about the provenance of these human statues. The practice of organ harvesting from the Falun Gong is another well-publicised, but much overlooked, offence and there are plenty of organs to be gazed at in this gruesome display. (For info and reports about this, visit http://abcnews.go.com/Blotter/BodiesExhibits/ or Google: black market body trade China)
Whatever happened to these people before they died, there is something of Burke and Hare feel to all of this, harking back to the days of body-snatching and grave-robbing. Where is the respect in this? People who donate their bodies to science indicate this wish before they die, but I’m sure many of them would be horrified to think their stripped forms might be paraded about the capital cities of the world like this. What is more, the bodies in the Ambassador never even had the chance to indicate such a wish. They may not rest in a peaceful grave, being hauled about the planet as money-making exhibits.
It so happened that in college one of my courses was studying Séamus Heaney at the time, and his poems about the Stone Age bodies at Aarhus (such as “The Tollund Man”), which seemed more than appropriate. Heaney’s poems have a primitive feel to them, unashamed in their pagan and gruesome effect. But it made me think. There is a difference between the display of those Bodies in the Bog in a museum and the BODIES exhibition. The Aarhus displays are laid peacefully. Their histories are told, as much as is known of them. And there was scant chance of a family relative being about to consult about the wishes of the deceased regarding their destination after death.
There is a respect which is sorely missing in the BODIES display. To recreate the inside of the human body has been done in polymer before. This venture simply wishes to cash in on the sensationalism of using REAL human bodies, nothing more. If it claims to be merely educational, it should dispense with this immoral and disgusting selling point. The opening blurb on the website talks of the “amazing and complex machine” which is the human body. Machine eh? Something mechanical? To be taken apart, piece by piece, and ogled in doe-eyed wonder like the inside of a clock? The “machine” behind the display, Premier Exhibitions, calls on the consumer to “Peer Inside Yourself”. Perhaps they should peer inside themselves, think about exactly what they are doing, about where there money is coming from and about what a massive responsibility it is to take possession of a human body.
An Irish-American Dream January 27, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Human Nature, Ireland, Personal Favourites, Rugby.Tags: America, British and Irish Lions, Broadway, Dublin, Edinburgh, Fast Food, Girvan Dempsey, Leinster, New York, Obesity, RDS, Rob Kearney, Robert Burck, Rugby, Shylock, The Congress, The Merchant Of Venice, The Naked Cowboy, The Statue Of Liberty, The White House, Time Square, USA
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I was at the Leinster match against Edinburgh on Sunday – a dour affair, 12-3 victory, blah blah blah but the fact is that the team are through to a quarter final against an opponent who won’t scare them – Harlequins – which is still two and a bit months away. There were some bright sparks, notably of course my schoolmate Rob Kearney who looks better and better with every game. His catching under the high ball has been exemplary, his kicking has improved immeasurably and his eye for an offensive running line is unmatched among his teammates right now. This Leinster Lion is soon to be a British and Irish Lion. Girvan Dempsey has been a great servant to Leinster and Ireland but it’s time to face facts: The future’s bright, the future’s Kearney.
The weather was pretty rotten in the RDS so I was well wrapped up and doing my best to contain body-heat when I was presented with the unwelcome prospect of someone donating an portion of their own body-heat to me. Yes, it’s that “2 Seats On The Aeroplane” question: An extaordinarily fat – not overweight, genuinely fat – man sat down next to me. And by next to me I mean he very nearly succeeded in sitting next to me on both my left and right sides.
Now, I’m able to tolerate many things, but being unable to sit properly in a chair which you have paid good money for on an unready-uncomfortable day is pretty tough to bear. There is very little one can do, however, short of emergency liposuction or a “Merchant Of Venice” job. Shylock could have drawn his entire pension from this guy. And this isn’t a case of me being size-ist – it’s the same as someone standing on your toes, or sneezing on you, in that they have caused you to feel discomfort. The only difference here is that a stumble of ones feet or a sudden sneeze are slightly less controllable than a bulging waistline. Common sense and genuine health concerns are being increasingly overlooked in Ireland, as witnessed by the increasing number of Irish teens who are, well, increasing. We only live once – don’t try living for two people.
A neat segue links the question of obesity to America, the so-called Home of Fast Food. And we had a very American visitor to the RDS for our half-time entertainment on Sunday: Robert Burck, the world-famous “Naked Cowboy”, is a busker in Time Square, whose act consists of him playing his guitar wearing only boots, tight shorts and a cowboy hat. A wet and windy January in Dublin isn’t the best place to ply that particular trade and his song was both brief and forgettable. And weren’t the cowboys to be found slightly further west than New York City? And surely they wore more clothes than Mr. Burck – cacti can sting, after all!
But nevertheless, the image of the Naked Cowboy is iconic. He was heartily cheered on and off the pitch and there was an awe-filled gusto to the way the man on the tannoy introduced our special guest “ALL THE WAY FROM NEW! YORK! CITY!!!” There is life in the New World yet. There remains a worldwide, and especially Irish, fascination with America and the holy grail of New York, the epicentre of that culture of hope and possibility. The White House, Congress etc. may all be in Washington but it is the New York skyline, the Statue Of Liberty, Time Square, the Subway, Broadway, these legendary landmarks to freedom, adventure and human flamboyance, which ignite the imagination.
America is dictating world culture to an unbelievable extent at the moment. The world’s political tides are pulled to and fro by the orbiting American satellite. And on the evidence of Sunday in the RDS, America is the still the hottest ticket in town, still the band we dream of seeing play live, still the celebrity we all want to shake hands with, still the true land of hope and glory. Heck, I’ve written plenty of posts about America myself over the last few months. Maybe it’s our Irish inferiority complex, our historical link to the states, the fact that we’re a little nation and they are our big brotherly neighbours across the ocean, who knows? But clearly, in hard times, we still look to America, to its icons such as the Naked Cowboy, to reaffirm our belief in human endurance and the impossibility of nothing.
A Long Time Coming January 21, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Arts, College, Football, Ireland, Latest News, Personal Favourites, Politics.Tags: Anfield, Barack Obama, Comedy Store Players, Dell, DU Players, Improv She Wrote, Little Shop Of Horrors, Liverpool FC, Newcastle United, Pope Benedict XVI, The 44th President Of The United States Of America, Trinity College Dublin, Washington, Whose Line Is It Anyway?, Yes We Can
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-The Inauguration of an African-American as President of the United States.
-The mid-season slump for Liverpool in the race for the Premiership.
Three events of varying importance, all a long time coming. I’ve been temporarily cut off from the rest of civilisation due to the untimely demise of my Dell’s battery, hence the delay in the latest post. I’m sure you were all desperately waiting for it. In between the death of the battery and now, I’ve been rehearsing for “Little Shop Of Horrors”, which I’m co-directing and which will be taking to the stage in the Players Theatre, Trinity College Dublin, from 17th to 21st February. Do come. And if you can’t, send money. Or flowers. Or both.
On top of that, I’ve also been onstage myself as part of Trinity College’s brand new improv comedy troupe, half-wittily named “Improv, She Wrote”. Comprising eleven members, we had our first live show ever in front of a packed house in the Players Theatre last night and, if the audience reaction was anything to go by, things went rather ok. Improv comedy is a really great form of entertainment, cheap to produce, fun, and great to watch when done well. It is a massive part of college life in America and, to a lesser extent, Britain, but has very few devotees in Ireland. But anyone has watched “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” or seen the Comedy Store Players in action will know how great good improv can be. We can only strive to be better. Thanks to those who came last night and do come again – after all, every show is different!
Liverpool, I’m afraid to say, have hit an icy patch this winter – as per usual. 6 draws in 9 games, if my count is correct. This habit we had of drawing games we should have won was one I thought we had kicked this year but sadly the addiction to mediocrity seems to be resurfacing. The goals need to start flowing at Anfield – the 5-1 rout of Newcastle seems to have been a flash in a very cold pan.
Finally, the tears were brimming again today. The sense of occasion was very obvious, even in a simple sitting room in campus rooms in Trinity College. I watched the inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama as America’s 44th President with a group of my friends. We clapped loudly when he was sworn in, felt for him as he stumbled nervously, and the silence was deafening as we hung on every word of his inaugural address.
I was aware of how unique a situation this really was. There are few moments in our lives when we experience a true moment of hope, an uplifting feeling of the world being, for a moment, good again, and say to ourselves “In the future, I will remember this moment. I will point to this instant and say, I was there, I saw this”. Some are personal, others very public affairs. One of these moments came when I watched the new pope, Benedict XVI, presented to the world – this was my faith remaking itself, renewing a sacred covenant.
Another of those moments occurred today. There was utter hope and faith in that room today as we watched the coverage from Washington. Today the world is good and right. Today America is better then it has been, thanks to one man and the millions who believed in his message, a message so simple and positive: Yes We Can. So, along with the country he now leads, let’s heed Obama’s call: Lift ourselves up, brush ourselves down, and begin to remake the world.
Advent Calendar Post #11: Kamikaze Pedestrians December 16, 2008
Posted by bazmcstay in Advent, Ireland.Tags: Dublin, Gym, Kamikaze, Pearse Street, Pedestrians, Pizza, Spain, Taxi, Trinity College, Westland Row
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In a taxi into town today, driving down Westland Row and turning left onto Pearse Street. I was idly gazing out the passenger window, not really paying much attention – checking to see if anyone I knew was working out in the goldfish bowl that is the Trinity College gym. Seriously, who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to put a gym with enormous windows beside a busy street in Dublin City centre? It only encourages Peeping Toms who aren’t so much Peeping as Casually-Glancing-And-Can’t-Avoid-Seeing-The-Hot-Ladies Toms.
Anyway, the taxi driver must have been “casually glancing” just as I was. All of a sudden, from the right side of the road, four pedestrians came sprinting, or stumbling, all holding hands and dashed in front of the car, narrowly avoiding being killed. They smiled inanely and carried on their merry way. The driver remonstrated with me – and, as far as I’m aware, it wasn’t my fault they were idiots – all the way up Pearse Street.
Now, they looked Spanish – olive skin, brightly coloured backpacks, the fact that they were holding hands and giggling in the face of certain death, and, of course, they were chattering so loudly that I could hear them through the windscreen – but I’m sure the rules of the road are quite similar in Spain to those here. Not only is running out into moving traffic dangerous – if also a highly successful way of culling the weak in the species – but to be running in that sort of chain-fashion could have resulted in catastrophe if one had fallen or pulled back at the wrong moment. There must have been some sort of crazed kamikaze pact behind the whole thing. Anyway, that put the shakes on me for the rest of the day. I had to have a pizza for dinner tonight just to restore my faith in mankind’s genius…
