Thursday, November 30, 2006
It seems that the Poetry Slam in Westmoreland Street has come to an end. The venue (pub) where the slam formally took place has been bought over or else is under new management. Now the Poetry Slam has been replaced by a students night. Cheap beer is victorious over verse.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
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One thousand year dawn (Marcel) by John Gerrard. Currently on display in the Royal Hibernian Academy. This interactive exhibition runs from 17 November to 7 January 2007.Friday, November 17, 2006
Number 1: Life is wonderful, travelling into work every morning listening to The Clash and The Undertones on Phantom FM.
Number 2: I've added a new link. It's entitled Phil Pankov's Dublin Photos. The photos consist of various black and white views of our Fair City and beyond. We highly recommend you view. Spectular.
Number 2: I've added a new link. It's entitled Phil Pankov's Dublin Photos. The photos consist of various black and white views of our Fair City and beyond. We highly recommend you view. Spectular.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Late Sunday night. A bar in Dublin’s Liberties. A guy at the counter wears a poppy. He’s been at the memorial service in Patrick’s Cathedral. Behind the bar there’s a photograph from 1967 of Glasgow Celtic FC. The Lisbon Lions. There’s a tv in the corner showing a football match, Barcelona against Real Zaragoza. A Polish couple sitting beside us quietly enjoy the last drink of the weekend. They’re looking at the football match, looking at each other.
My friend Des is up at the bar ordering the drinks. I glace at the wall and see an advertisement for the 1949 All Ireland Football Final between Cavan and Kerry. The match took place in the Polo Grounds in New York.
Des comes back from and we resume our conversation. Once upon a time this pub was strictly an aul lads haunt. Show your pension book and you’d be guaranteed a pint. A real Dublin local. That was before the days of the Celtic Tiger. Our economic success. Those were the days when the Irish decamped themselves throughout the world. The whole world comes to the Emerald Isle now.
Suddenly all eyes are glued to the t.v. In the space of a minuet the referee has sent off two players. One from each side. Barcelona are awarded a free kick. Ronaldhino stands over the ball. He takes the free. Lets rip. The ball flies at a seemingly impossible angle into the Zaragoza net.
Rohaldinho runs to the touchline to celebrate with his team mates. In Dublin the pub explodes. An eruption of clapping. The man with the poppy is gesturing to his friends “See that” he says “See that”. They nod in agreement. No point in arguing. A local in the corner mouths “Incredible”. The Polish guy mutters something and looks like he can’t believe his eyes. I sit there smiling, for one night at least, my faith in football renewed. Even Des who doesn’t know the first thing about football, but who enjoys the spectacle, appreciates Ronaldhino’s efforts.
Ten minuets later from another free Rohaldinho almost repeats the same trick. On this occasion he hits the crossbar but one of his team mates scores from the rebound. The final whistle blows and in Dublin’s Liberties clapping erupts once more.
Poppies and Glasgow Celtic. The Polo Grounds in New York and Ronaldinho. A couple from Poland and a local there from time immemorial. A pub in Dublin on a Sunday night.
My friend Des is up at the bar ordering the drinks. I glace at the wall and see an advertisement for the 1949 All Ireland Football Final between Cavan and Kerry. The match took place in the Polo Grounds in New York.
Des comes back from and we resume our conversation. Once upon a time this pub was strictly an aul lads haunt. Show your pension book and you’d be guaranteed a pint. A real Dublin local. That was before the days of the Celtic Tiger. Our economic success. Those were the days when the Irish decamped themselves throughout the world. The whole world comes to the Emerald Isle now.
Suddenly all eyes are glued to the t.v. In the space of a minuet the referee has sent off two players. One from each side. Barcelona are awarded a free kick. Ronaldhino stands over the ball. He takes the free. Lets rip. The ball flies at a seemingly impossible angle into the Zaragoza net.
Rohaldinho runs to the touchline to celebrate with his team mates. In Dublin the pub explodes. An eruption of clapping. The man with the poppy is gesturing to his friends “See that” he says “See that”. They nod in agreement. No point in arguing. A local in the corner mouths “Incredible”. The Polish guy mutters something and looks like he can’t believe his eyes. I sit there smiling, for one night at least, my faith in football renewed. Even Des who doesn’t know the first thing about football, but who enjoys the spectacle, appreciates Ronaldhino’s efforts.
Ten minuets later from another free Rohaldinho almost repeats the same trick. On this occasion he hits the crossbar but one of his team mates scores from the rebound. The final whistle blows and in Dublin’s Liberties clapping erupts once more.
Poppies and Glasgow Celtic. The Polo Grounds in New York and Ronaldinho. A couple from Poland and a local there from time immemorial. A pub in Dublin on a Sunday night.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Absurdist Writing no. 564A
First man: What time is it?
Second man: One red Toyota van
First man: What time is it?
Second man: One red Toyota van
Friday, November 03, 2006
The Librarian by Arcimboldo
