Bizarre story of the day

Tom Cruise has apparently gone a little gaga – and is building an ‘alien shelter‘ to prove it.

Strange that if he just said ‘nuclear fallout shelter’ the response would sound much more like “of course he’s building one, who wouldn’t?”

If only Dublin were a REAL city

This is what ten days with a ridiculous cough will get you – searching for a 24 hour pharmacy.

We don’t deserve better – they do

I know I said I’d limit the rugby talk, mostly because I’m surprised that I have anything to say about it, but here goes.

Since the Georgia game, there has been a fairly open attitude of “how dare they not win the tournament” vis-a-vis the Irish Rugby Team. So much so that Questions & Answers was infected by this nonsense.

Two days later, the same appeared in the Indo letters page. I’m confident this won’t be the end of it.

I don’t understand this view. Any of it. The idea that we, as supporters, as people sitting on the couch or in the case of the lucky few sitting in the stands, deserve ‘better’ or ‘more’ of the national rugby team. Made all the more ridiculous by the notion that the relatively new professional status of the game re-affirms this position.

These arguments presume that the lads on the pitch are for some reason not giving it their all. Now, call me crazy, but when you put on your green shirt and walk onto the proverbial world stage to represent your country you give it everything you can. You may not be the greatest player in the world – you may not be the greatest player in the squad – in some cases you may be sick, or injured, or have personal cr*p going on (better known as ‘being human’). But I would imagine that you give it your all, every single time, within those constraints.

How selfish have we become that we can demand more of men who have given everything – their lives, personal and professional, and much more besides – to sweat it out in our name?  And what are we doing that we ‘deserve’ a better performance, or a better team? What does that even mean – where are these better players supposed to come from? It’s a national side, and no more than the soccer team (don’t get me started) we have a limited pool of players, and we have a strange and totally inexplicable habit of talking ourselves up way beyond our probable potential.

The other aspect of all this has been attacking the coach. Same nonsense as the Staunton debate (though that was possibly even more one-sided). In this case, I do agree with one aspect – no coach should be given a new contract before a major contest, just as no other employee would get a new contract immediately prior to the completion of a major project. All that besides, undermining the coach undermines his ability to coach, and thus undermines the team. It’s massively counter-productive.

The national team – no matter what the sport – and the coach of that team – no matter what the circumstances – should not be hung out to dry two matches into a major competition.

It does nobody any favours and makes us all look like ignorant eejits.

Don’t limit Gaeilge to the Gaeltacht

An article in  yesterday’s Sunday Tribune illustrated the fact that Fine Gael’s new spokesman for Community, Rural and Gaeltacht Affairs doesn’t speak more than two words of Irish. Which Michael Ring admitted quite openly – though he did seem to miss the point a little.

What bugs me is that while it’s perfectly reasonable to point this out, it seems ever so slightly unfair to pick on one TD, even if he has a fairly relevant position. To be honest, I’d say “Taoiseach of Ireland for the last 10 and probably next 5 years” would be someone that should be asked the same questions.

In the not too distant past (I’ll go hunt for the exact date/time/details) Bertie Bocht defended his lack of Irish by saying that he didn’t have the same opportunities to learn it or some such thing. Isn’t that the same excuse he uses for everything?  Like that he didn’t have the opportunity to give back the £30,000 stg, because he was having such a hard time of it?

In the brief interview in the Tribune, Ring (admittedly sounding like he wanted the ‘ordeal’ of being spoken to in the national language to end as soon as possible) said he hoped to be able to get Irish lessons at some point during his term. It didn’t sound genuine, but at least he said it – it’s on record, and if anyone gets really pedantic they can call him on it every three weeks until he gives in.

When did Bertie Bocht announce that he’d do the same?

If he had decided, on being made Taoiseach, that he’d care to put a bit of effort in he could be fluent by now. If he had sat down when he got re-elected to his second term, he would be well on his way. Even now, he could make the gesture (let’s face it, he’s big into shallow gestures) of doing a six week course and be done with. But no, he hasn’t – and won’t.

Why is nobody chasing him about this? What is it about Bertie Bocht that we forgive him everything because the ‘poor wee thing’ has had such a tough time RUNNING THE COUNTRY?

Speaking of spokesmen for Gaeltacht Affairs, Michael Ring’s new best friend hasn’t done much in terms of chasing Bertie’s tail. While I’m sure Ó Cuív has lots on his plate, shouldn’t it be part of his job to encourage government ministers to, at the very least, pay lip service to the language? (Yes, it’s a horrible idea, but clearly they’re not going to put any real effort into it – if they were going to they would have, ten years ago).

I’ve known plenty of supposed “Gael-Nazis” – in fact I’ve been accused of being one more than once. Much like people who are obsessed with environmental issues (or any issue really), it tends to rub off. At the very least it makes you think. If Ó Cuív is the person in the cabinet appointed to ‘care about the language’ (and for the record, that’s not his job, but it’s how the job is treated, which is pathetic, but a rant for another day) – why isn’t he spreading the love (of Gaeilge)? Or at least spreading the notion?

This raises multiple other questions about both that particular ministry and the Irish language generally – such as, should there be a minister with a specific responsibility for promoting the language – and if not why not, is it because we want to keep pretending we don’t need one? Or is it because we want to keep that mad little language in safely quarantined areas far from the centres of commerce?

I think it is perfectly fair to raise the question about Michael Ring’s grasp of the language – but only if the same questions are being asked of people much more likely to be representing Ireland and the Irish on a national and international stage.

Bar-B-Flat Girls

God I hate knowing about this. But anyway.

Quick compare and contrast. The original versus the ‘professional‘ versions of a cover version of a ’song’.

Essentially, these girls can’t carry a note. Not that it’s a vital quality for that particular tune, but at least the original singer (who incidentally now writes songs for Girls Aloud??) had a decent voice.

“The twins” are going nowhere, but at least keep them quiet with a TV hosting gig rather than pretending that they can do anything but lip synch.

How many Irish people visit Thailand every year?

It has seemed strange to me for quite a while that we don’t have an ambassador to Thailand, if only because of the number of people I know who have been there / are there/ plan to go there.

This first bothered me when someone I knew was out there when The Tsunami hit a few years ago.

I was reminded of it on Monday when a woman by the name of Helene Fallon-Wood was trying to deal with media queries about that horrific plane crash.  She’ no doubt does a good job and was under a lot of pressure, but it was clear, at least on the Newstalk interview on Monday morning, that she wasn’t properly prepped for the interview. It struck me that if ever there was a time to make sure someone could answer all the basic questions – what’s going on, who do we call, etc – it’s when people are most likely panicking about their respective friends and relatives who may or may not have been on that plane.

Which leads me back to how/why don’t we have someone a bit less honorary and a bit better staffed in Thailand?

Possible first and last word about the rugby…

To quote from the Indo:

“If Namibia was shocking, you had to dig for words to describe the magnitude of this horror.” 

On the….

I had a bit of a nightmare sorting out my tickets for last Friday’s premiere of Death Proof in the Savoy. The dubliniff.com website insisted on being as uncooperative as possible for a solid three hours, by which time panic had well and truly set in. Tickets were secured in the end though so I shouldn’t, and won’t, complain too much.

It’s quite the confusing system really. Arriving at the Savoy just before 8pm to see a crowd outside, swarming around crash barriers and a solitary strip of red carpet, and then strolling past them to the ‘business as usual’ cinema foyer – but with extra staff. I have to say I’d never seen so many (and such over-dressed) cinema ushers but it was a nice touch and gave some hint as to the ‘special’ event we were at.

DIFF branding was everywhere, but again that was to be expected and it’s a small price to pay for the chance to see a film you’ve waited so long for. The (new-ish) director, Gráinne Humphreys, was visibly nervous as she introduced ‘the man himself’, but she was long forgotten by the time QT got half way down to the front of the cinema.

I’ve never seen such an ‘important’ person look so relaxed, and at the same time so crazed with energy. Despite being dressed a bit like a guy who has no intention of leaving his house for a week, he was buzzing around like a man who neither needs nor gets much sleep. I’d be interested to know what his caffeine intake is like.

So, QT introduced himself and his film a little, and encouraged the assembled film geeks to show their appreciation during the film. Of course we were going to. You don’t spend three hours queuing online for tickets to a movie so you can sit silently and ponder the deeper meaning of a crazed lunatic in a suped-up car mowing women down at will.

That’s my summary of the film right there. If you want more, go see it. In fact, go see it anyway, because it would be a crime not to, and the least we can do as a nation/continent is prove that we have better taste (and a better sense of humour?) than the US box office/public who robbed this side of the Atlantic of the chance to see Grindhouse on the big screen.

A word about the soundtrack – because it’s Tarantino, and you can’t not mention it. Every song is great, hard to decide on a favourite but will have to hand it to April March’s “Chick Habit” (closing credits) which is worth staying in your seat to enjoy.

After the film, QT stayed around for a QT&A (haha, see what I did there? So witty…) session. It was good, he’s clearly a funny guy with lots to say for himself and was feeding off the fairly open adoration of most of the audience. A couple of people did let the side down with the obligatory (read dumbass) “can I be in your next movie / can I give you my band’s CD” questions which QT was very obviously unimpressed with.

All in all a great night, and a reminder to look forward to (and by that I mean “prepare to book week off work for”) the real DIFF next February. Apparently the plan is to have a series of these director/screening sessions to keep the buzz of the festival going all year round – sounds good to me!

BT is/are messing with me

Internet has been down for days, so apologies for the lack of posts but the simple fact is I’m still too guilt-ridden to post directly from work…

I wanna be Yogi Bear

So, multiple years later I finally got back to a yoga class.

I won’t lie, it did not start well. The teacher was deeply un-yogi-ful, and basically told me to go away and come back for the beginners class. Which I wouldn’t mind, but I really amn’t a beginner. I’m just seriously out of practice!

Anyway, nice venue, decent crowd, nice atmosphere of candles and iTunes and incense nad all sorts of stuff. Then the strenuous stuff starts.

I had forgotten how much I love yoga. It leaves you with such a fantastic feeling of both physical exhaustion and mental peace.

Very easy to get addicted to, and I imagine I will now get sucked back in… but I’m going to go ahead and see that as a good thing.