The Eurovision Song Contest takes place in Lisbon this coming Saturday. Ireland is sending a singer called Ryan O’Shaughnessy, who loves to talk about his girlfriend Ailbhe. His song ‘Together’ tells a gay love story, with a video to match. Apparently Russia is considering a broadcast ban on the song for breaching its gay propaganda law. You’d think they’d be more concerned with the fake re-election of Putin. Then again, what do I know? Continue reading Eurovision: The Linda Martin years
The train was booked for 17.25 – the direct service between Dublin Heuston Station and Limerick Colbert Station. This was a service that did not require a change-over in Limerick Junction – a dreary place in County Tipperary, sometimes referred to (by myself) as ‘the waiting room to hell.’ Continue reading The Midlands are a strange, dark place if you are not local.
I walked past the Savoy Cinema after work yesterday evening. As I do every evening. I saw a poster for the film ‘Love, Simon’ on the billboard display outside the building, and noticed that the film was about to start. Without thinking I ducked inside and bought a ticket. I was slightly embarrassed you see. Why, oh why would a middle aged man – in fine fettle granted but moving away from forty nonetheless – be going to see a romantic comedy about teenagers. Well let me explain. Continue reading I love ‘Love, Simon’
On mornings when I am not asleep on the bus, or engaged in discreet surveillance of my fellow passengers, or staring morosely out the window, I can sometimes be found reading a book. The average I will read is about 25 pages per journey. With some dedication, a dense and mighty tome can be perused over the course of a few weeks. This morning – to my regret – I finished ‘Skippy Dies’ by Paul Murray, an epic tome about posh teenagers at an exclusive boarding school in Dublin. Continue reading Bookworm: ‘Skippy Dies’
Today is May 2nd. This means that yesterday was May 1st – it’s cunning how dates follow each other isn’t it? May 1st is also known as May Day. It has been adopted as International Workers’ Day by trade unions and socialists. In many countries it is an important national holiday where the labourer enjoys a much deserved day of rest – France; Germany; Italy and Russia among many others. Not in Ireland of course. The frugality with which we are dealt days off is a constant disappointment – it’s not quite as appalling as the Netherlands (where – like in other uncivilised countries – if the holiday falls at the weekend then you lose it) but it is certainly not generous. Continue reading You have nothing to lose but your chains
I have been negligent in recording my thoughts on my fellow bus passengers in recent times. There has been a natural turnover of regular passengers. People tend to follow strict routines in the mornings – and this extends to taking the same bus each day. As a result the same faces are visible on a daily basis. However there is a slight churn, and over a six months period the demographic will change slightly – people will move on to new jobs; children will move to new schools; methadone patients will receive different times for their recurring appointments. However it is hard to notice this while it is happening. One day you will suddenly wonder where that grouchy Spanish woman with the briefcase has gone to. Or the man with the nasal voice. Or where Beyonce and Bruiser have disappeared to (I hope in their case they have been housed, as it was only late in my acquaintance with them did I figure out that they were residents in a B&B as they had no permanent home). Continue reading I’m going to Wastelands, Wastelands
I have written previously about the lottery it is, trying to get to work in the wastelands every day.
How since November last year the 40D bus route is on schedule (when it actually appears that is) about 25% of the time. How arriving for an earlier bus during rush hour is actually pointless as there is no consistency as to when a bus will be cancelled (Dublin Bus with their insane logic pretend that buses are not cancelled, as they seem unable to grasp the idea that if a bus service like the 40D is meant to appear every 15 minutes, yet passengers are standing in the freezing cold for forty minutes for some surly driver to arrive, then the bus is not late, it has been cancelled. I guess it might damage their fake reliability statistics if they class these as cancelled buses. )
About how complaining to Dublin Bus is a pointless exercise, as they send out a standard form response ‘apologising for any inconvenience caused’ by the failed 40D bus route, but fail to address any of the reasons for the failure of the route. Additional buses; or an amended timetable of the removal of certain stops so the buses can be diverted away from the problem areas are not considered. The fact that the failure of this busy commuter route is endangering people’s livelihoods, as employers won’t tolerate persistent lateness; doesn’t seem to bother Dublin Bus. Continue reading Dublin Bus – getting you to work late, every day
The actors have departed. We’ve just finished the first read-through of my latest magnus opus ‘Mother’s Little Treasure’. I am beaming from ear to ear. And as nervous as a tick. Continue reading And it begins – ‘Mother’s little treasure’
Having spent the past fortnight as any good superhero would – fighting evil and the causes of evil, within the court system; I have been remiss in maintaining this blog. This was deliberate – I took my responsibilities as a juror in a criminal trial, quite seriously. Thus I wanted to maintain a radio silence. Owing to my habit of babbling, I thought it would be wiser, in case after a glass of Blue Nun I would splurge details of the trial, and end up in the slammer for contempt of court.
That is not to say however that I have been living the life of a hermit. The Criminal Court of Justice is in the city centre. It is within easy reach of many museums and galleries. Seeing as I have been on a semi-mission to become more dedicated to cultural pursuits, I decided to avail of this opportunity if possible. Continue reading My fortnight of culture
The jury was complete (read about the selection process in PART ONE). It was now 11.30am. The trial would commence at 2. We were informed by our designated jury minder that as the court was not yet in session, we were free to leave, on the strict condition that we be back by 1.30. As we were now working for the nation of Ireland in the administration of criminal justice, we were entitled to a free lunch (at the taxpayer’s expense) while the case continued. We were handed a menu with three options, should we wish to dine in the jury canteen. I chose the chili beef and rice. A wise decision. Continue reading Courtroom adventures (part two)
midnightmurphy 