Thursday, August 15, 2013
All you can eat?
Is this an honest ad?
In big print: all the data you can eat.
In tiny print (bottom left corner under the url): implied limit of 15GB per month & no tethering & €20 obligatory renewal every month. (Click on the image to enlarge)
You tell me.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
VBVM
This is a useful time to look at Knock, Co. Mayo, where the Blessed Virgin Mary is reputed to have appeared on 21 August 1879, so we are fast approaching the 134th anniversary of the apparition.
I have a particular interest in Knock, having been on many pilgrimages there in my youth. My father was born in Ballyhaunis, just down the road (7 miles) and visits to the old homestead, then still inhabited by my Granny and Aunt Mollie, always included a trip to the church at Knock.
This was not the Knock of today. There was no basilica only a church with a gable end. Mind you it was a very important and controversial gable end, but a gable end no less.
There was no church of reconciliation with as many confessionals as there are weeks in the year.
And the holy water was freely available in unlimited quantities from a common tap in the corner.
Then there were the huxters stalls along the street, selling all sorts of religious artefacts and holy sounvenirs.
A decade of the rosary, a trimming or two, some momentos, and that was it. Private and no fuss.
So the picture above, is nearer to what I experienced than is the one below. It is a very interesting picture, taken within a few years of the apparition, and it testifies to a huge well of faith among those who visited in those early years. The crutches on the wall represent cures of one sort or another. Whether through divine intervention, the power of faith, or sheer mind over matter, an amazing number of cripples appear to have walked away.
For that reason, it is a very powerful picture. All the more powerful when you know the background of the times.
Irish faith was local and built around the monasteries, parishes and old practices.
There were patterns (mini-pilgrimages/visits), holy wells and other pisreogaí (superstitions). Rome, with the active connivance of Cardinal Cullen, was attempting to stamp out all this stuff and impose Rome rule (homogeneous and done by the book). Bishop McHale was the people's champion but he lost out in the long run.
In parallel with this conflict the land war was hotting up in this very area. Evictions were rife as was land agitation, and the church was divided, some priests opting for the old and others going with the new. This was the part of the country that gave us the boycott the following year. And, of course, 1879 was the year of the Gorta Beag (mini famine).
So it is not stretching it too much to say that Knock had a collective nervous breakdown around the time of the apparition. Eugene Hynes is great reading on all of this.
The narrative of the apparition, as it hit the wider public consciousness, was filtered by the church to ensure theological orthodoxy and the result has a bit of the camel about it.
The picture below of the gable as it is today, shows the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, St. John the Evangelist and the Lamb of God. As motley crew as ever there was. That's what I mean about the camel - a compromise creature designed by a Committee (for which read church).
The modern decor, and holy complex, was instituted by that great dancehall promoter from Toureen, Monsignor Horan. A holy entrepreneur extraordinary. He ran rings around Charlie Haughey (Taoiseach/Prime Minister) by challenging him to validate his Mayo credentials and support the construction of a nearby airport. He even got Pope John Paul II to visit the shrine on the 100th anniversary of the apparition. Some operator.
Anyway, I just thought I'd give the BVM a mention seeing as how she is tending to slip from view in this modern materialistic world.
Labels:
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Monday, August 12, 2013
Blythe Spirit
In 1924 Ernest Blythe took a shilling off the old age pension, reducing it from 10/- to 9/-.
He never heard the end of it till the day he died. And no Minister for Finance since has been unaware of Blythe's action and the odium it attracted.
The cartoon, above, which dates from 1924, is by Gordon Brewster from his series in the Sunday Independent. It refers to Blythe's cut, aptly contrasting it with other cuts which were not made at that time.
The cartoon is as relevant today as it was then and it is reproduced here with the kind permission of the National Library of Ireland who currently hold a collection of almost 500 of Brewster's cartoons.
Minister Joan Burton is reputed to be considering a reduction of €10 in the State old age pension for the next budget. While this reduction is proportionately less than Blythe's, its effect, given all the recent stealth taxes and rises in charges, would likely be similar, and attract equal odium in saecula saeculorum.
I'll leave you to contemplate all this against a background from the poet, Shelley, who always had a word for everything.
HAIL to thee, blithe spirit!
Bird thou never wert—
That from heaven or near it
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
...
Chorus hymeneal,
Or triumphal chant,
Match'd with thine would be all
But an empty vaunt—
A thin wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
...
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know;
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
I Love Lucy
A beautifully written piece in yesterday morning's Irish Times reminded me how much I loved Lucy over the last two decades.
In the course of my work, I kept an eye on the Financial Times. Heavy stuff. But a paper which, over the years, has had a higher standard of writing than many of its ostensibly literary counterparts. You could lift stuff out of it for a ministerial brief and find yourself an honorary member of Aos Dána before you knew it.
Then there was Lucy. In the middle of all the economic and financial chaos, pseudo-intellectualism and buzzword management, there was a sane world out there somewhere, even if it was only in Lucy's head.
She calmed you down, made you smile, and reminded you what was really important. She was ostensibly writing about management, but it was really a philosophy column to which anyone could relate. She had a lightness of touch and a lurking smile, and, God forbid, she wrote actual English. Real words strung together to actually mean something. And always a new angle to wake you up.
So I plunged into her piece in the paper and I wasn't disappointed. I'd say she was in her alley. The UK Civil Service was banning 30 ugly words, including the horrendous linguistic abuse "going forward". And not before its time.
The accretion of jargon, or lazy shortcut use of language, since I joined the Civil Service, 46 years ago, has been spectacular.
At that time, we were advised to procure a copy of Sir Ernest Gowers' The Complete Plain Words so that we could avoid such pitfalls and do language the honour of retaining its meaning. The book was produced by Her Majesty's Stationery Office and was available, to keep, from our own Registry. It became a constant companion and, along with a good dictionary, has stood me in good stead to this very day.
So, thank you Lucy for keeping me sane, at least in my own estimation.
And I can't blame the Irish Times for what I think is a wee typo in the piece. When I went to the Financial Times original, there is was again. The proof was in the pudding, as they are now wont to say.
Ah well, we can't all be perfect.
Monday, August 05, 2013
No Snopes Here
women are unfit for politics?
Under the above heading the Association of Catholic Priests posted the following on their website:
In today’s (August 3rd) Independent Eilis O’Hanlon quotes Pope Francis as saying the following in 2007, apparently in the context of a presidential election in Argentina:Having ascertained at Snopes that the quote was a malicious fraud, I set out on Twitter in pursuit of Eilis O'Hanlon.
“Women are naturally unfit for political office. Both the natural order and facts show us that the political being par excellence is male. Scripture shows us that woman has always been the helper of man who thinks and does, but nothing more”.
Can anyone authenticate, or give a context, to this statement. If he really did say it, and if it means what is appears to mean, we could be in deeper trouble than we think
I came across her talking to Donal O'Keeffe where she was admitting that the Pope had not said what she said he had.
I asked her about a correction and, to my surprise, she pleaded ignorance of how this might be dealt with online and suggested I write in a letter. In other words, she wanted me to correct her mistake. This left me very taken aback, I need hardly say.
You can see the "progress" of my conversation with her below.




Arising out of this conversation, the ACP was able to reassure its readers in the following terms:
Sunday night: Eilis O’Hanlon has admitted on Twitter that there was no proper authentification for her quote. Sunday Independent!!!As I pointed out on the ACP site:
I can only assume that she saw my intervention as a male attack and in some way a defence of the Pope’s view on women priests. Neither of which is the case. Sloppy journalism and a Pope in error are two separate and distinct issues.
Today, I have calmed down, at least sufficiently to do this post :)
Anyway, it went on. You can follow some of it here if you have the energy. Highlights mentioned below.
The next day I got a cryptic tweet telling me it was Monday. What, in Jaysus name, I wondered was that all about? Did she take Monday off? Had she discovered something nobody else knew? Would she not be coming back till Tuesday?
Then all was explained. The Sunday Independent was only published on Sunday. So she could not [apologise][correct the error] till the following Sunday, and I was suffering from premature indignation. Must be the hormones then.
Anyway, today is Sunday, and ne'er a bit of a correction in the air. So it looks like it was a case of buy a bit of time and that obnoxious person will go away, or perhaps be distracted by the testicle eating fish which seem to have taken her fancy in the meantime.
From Premature Indignation on Monday to Testicle Eating Fish on Sunday, that must surely be my longest organism to date.
And, I don't go away. So stay tuned.
Friday, August 02, 2013
Whistleblower
This is an opportune time to return to Craig Murray.
He rose to eminence as a UK ambassador. He became a whistleblower over UK collusion with torture in Uzbekistan. He was smeared and "sacked" by the UK Foreign Office, then under the sleazeball Foreign Secretary, Jack Straw. And he has had to make his own way in the world ever since.
He is, in effect, a precursor of Bradley Manning and Edward Snowden, except his authorities did not succeed in criminalising him, despite their best efforts to do so.
He is now a writer and campaigner for human rights, and his latest foray into the field was a talk at Belfast's Féile an Phobail yesterday evening (1/8/2013).
His theme was The Respectability of Torture a subject on which he was well qualified to speak.
The venue was St. Mary's University College, a former teacher training college and now a constituent college of Queen's University. The significance of its location on the Falls Road in Belfast was not lost on the audience and it was remarked that there were probably people present who came from a community that had experienced torture first hand, not from Uzbekistan's Islam Karimov, but from "their own" UK authorities, who still claim jurisdiction over the six counties of Northern Ireland.
Craig was introduced by Bill Rolston, and if you think there are a few empty seats there, be assured they were filled by the time Bill finished his introduction. Attendance was round the 60 mark, which wasn't far off the capacity of the lecture theatre itself. The audience was attentive and involved and Craig's talk was followed by a lively discussion.
Craig started, in his usual quiet informal and intimate manner, by recapping on his own experience, from the time he was posted as UK ambassador to Uzbekistan in 2002. Online, you can read the whole story in Wikipedia or listen to Craig tell it himself in RTÉ's radio series on whistleblowers (2006).
He has written a book about his experiences relating to Uzbekistan which is available via Amazon.
The thrust of his talk was how human rights are ignored and collusion with torture becomes a routine part of an administration's plunder of other people's resources, particularly when they find themselves relying on the cooperation of totalitarian leaders.
When Craig raised their collusion in torture with his authorites he was more or less told to shut up and just play second fiddle to the US ambassador in Tashkent. He was told he was "overfocussed on human rights". When he didn't shut up, he was accused of some 18 "offences", some of them criminal, such as selling passports for sex, and being constantly drunk on the job. In the middle of all this, he suffered a relatively rare and mysterious illness, which in the light of what happened to Dr. David Kelly and others, might just have been an attempt to send him back to his maker.
So where does the respectability come in? Well, as Craig explained, this torture is being carried out, colluded in, or justified, by administrations which otherwise hold themselves out as models of democracy, human rights and the rule of law (which, of course, they are not). Craig also mentioned the rampant self-censorship in the mainstream media (MSM), who contrive to ignore all of this even when it is put under their nose. He was a bit at a loss to give a definitive explanation for this perverse behaviour. However, as we all know, the MSM have, by and large, become the creatures of political and commercial vested interests, and, in any event, lack the courage of the Pilgers and Fisks of this world to resist the huge pressure put on them.
Craig told us that he himself has been banned from the BBC. The exception is when he is in the area of one of their outposts who are not up to speed on the ban, as with BBC Radio Ulster yesterday morning when they interviewed him as a speaker at the local (mispronounced) Féile an Phobail.
As it turned out, Craig was eventually cleared of all the charges laid against him by the Foreign Office, except one: that he had revealed the other charges!
The Belfast session was a wonderful experience, and a great tribute to Craig for delivering it, to the Féile's organisers for organising it, and to the audience for turning up to be sensitised to one of the greatest scandals of our time.
The newly elected Lord Mayor of Belfast, Máirtín Ó Muilleoir, turned up, chain and all. No need to tell you which community he came out of. The first thing he did when he came in the door was to take a photo of Craig.
Also in attendance was Danny Morrisson, Cathaoirleach na Féile.
Craig blogs at craigmurray.org.uk
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Virtuous reality
I was tickled by the above cartoon in the current edition of Phoenix.
We live so much of our lives these days in a virtual world that things can get very confusing and full physical human contact is often not appreciated. So much easier to press a button than climb to the top of the mountain to actually meet the Man.
The cartoon reminded me of a poem by Pat Ingoldsby in his 2011 book Hitting Cows with a Banjo.
There are also resonances of a story told by Eamonn Andrews, Chairman of the RTÉ Authority 1960-64 when Ireland set up its first TV service. He quotes a remark of a child on seeing snow for the first time, "Look Mammy, snow, just like on television".
So, what's real's real, and what's not isn't.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Fanny, my arse!

In the Irish Senate, in the course of a debate on the abolition of the Senate, Senator David Norris accused Fine Gael TD Regina Doherty of "talking through her fanny".

This caused no small uproar and Norris subsequently tendered a sort of an apology saying he didn't intend to offend anyone.
He is quoted as saying, though, that he could defend his use of terminology in an academic debate.
Now the offence taken, by a lot of people, was to the reference to the female genitalia implied in his remark. Other people felt he hadn't gone quite that far, so to speak.
So if we're going to have an academic debate let's have it now.
From my favourite online dictionary (wictionary.org)
fanny (plural fannies)
(UK, vulgar) The female genitalia.
Her dress was so short you could nearly see her fanny
(North America, informal) The buttocks; arguably the most nearly polite of several euphemisms.
Children, sit down on your fannies, and eat your lunch.
Get off your fanny and get back to work!
(UK, vulgar) Sex; similar to North American pussy
This club is full of fanny.
Now, it seems to me that Senator Norris's only defence, if defence it be, is to say he was using the term in the North American sense.
And for this Joycean scholar to have to resort to American usage to make his case would surely be the supreme irony.
Over to you David.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Booming
Recession?
What recession?
Let me take you on a short walk along the Irish Life Shopping Mall, which connects Talbot Street to Abbey Street in the centre of Dublin city.
We'll just check out the Abbey Street end, seeing as how that's the end we're at.
No shortage of thriving businesses. Furniture, I think, ...
... and a fashionable barber shop ...
... and a clothing shop ...
... that is so big I need two pictures to cover it ...
... and a cosmetics shop, I think ...
... a hairdressers ...
... and a smartphone shop ...
... and back out into the open air on a sunny sunny day.
What could be more pleasant?
We've turned the corner, seen the light at the end of the tunnel and savoured the green, green shoots of home.
All full ahead and steady as she goes.
Now where did I see this lady from the hairdressers before?
Ah yes, she used to work in the hairdressers in that big TCD commercial development in Pearse St.
I remember her because she was one of the victims of the Dublin Titter who went around obscuring invisible nipples with blue paint. Maybe that's why she left there to come to work here.
But the Pearse St. façades were fakes, were they not?
Didn't I blog them myself.
Booming my arse. You'd better believe it.
Every shop front I have just shown you represents a vacated premises. They are all fakes. The place is coming apart.
Lack of demand? Upward only rents? Increased rates?
Drug infestation in the centre city?
And more to come, much more.
Very, very scarey.
Labels:
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Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Biometric
So the Irish passport is going biometric, whatever that means. When I first heard it I had visions of my upcoming passport renewal involving a personal visit to some wired up room in the Passport Office, where I would be given a lie detector test and the retina of my eyes would be scanned into heavily enrcrypted digital coding.
When the time came, however, it appeared to be just more of the same. Fill in the form, get 4 photos and have two of them endorsed at the local Garda station, make sure to send in the current expiring passport, and of course pay up. Nothing new here, or so it appeared.
Then came the phone call from the Passport Office. "Oh, am I in trouble?" says I, with visions of Edward Snowden and Bradley Manning alternating with all the derogatory names I had called Obama over the last few years.
"Yes, but nothing serious" came the reply, from a very civilised and friendly young lady. "There is glare on your glasses in the photo and we can't do the biometrics."
Fortunately she said I could just send in two more, unendorsed, photos without the glare and all would be well. I thanked her and headed for the nearest chemist.
Their effort was not a success, and the glare from the flash persisted. Normally you could turn your head a little sideways to deflect the flash, but not anymore. Now they had to see the whites of your eyes head on. And, no, I could not take my glasses off.
I eventually ended up in a One Hour processing unit and this guy knew what he was at.
"Take your glasses off, and put them back on, but keep the sides well above the level of your ears." And, indeed, it was that little tilt that squared the circle.
Now the nice lady will look deep into my eyes and see my soul.
And process my application.
As I sent in the extra photos, I wondered if I could get a job training those people in chemists who take passport photos for the new biometric age, using the tip I picked up in the One Hour place.
Might just be a gap in the market there.
The passport arrived in the post, and I went looking to see what was biometric about it.
The first thing that had struck me when I saw pictures, such as the one at the top of this post, of the front cover, was to wonder if that little thing at the bottom was a chip of some sort. I still don't know the answer.
Otherwise the passport looked just like the previous one.
Then I noticed a certain roughness at the centre of the page illustrated above, and the same roughness in the corresponding position on the underside of the page. There was nothing to be seen though.
Intrigued I held the page up to the light and what did I see?
Me, as illustrated below (pinhole version)
I sincerely hope that everyone who has renewed their passport since the onset of this biometrics thing finds the same.
I'd hate to think the NSA were sticking pins in my effigy.
Now I come to think of it. I have been feeling a bit off these last few days.
Ah well.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Luceat Lucinda
Now that the die is cast, I can reveal the real reason why Lucinda Creighton got the chop.
It has nothing to do with the current legislation, whip or no whip. It has nothing to do with what I'm told was a very good job done during the Irish EU Presidency. It has nothing to do with her being better looking than Enda.
It is because of her disrespect for the flag, the European Flag. Some people, like me, are very fussy about the flag. Not just taking it down as sunset and raising it at sunrise. No. The problem arises when it is flown the wrong way up.
Lucinda now becomes No.9 on my list of upside down fliers of the EU flag. And her the Minister for Europe. Oh dear.
Her sin, in this case, was to be sending out a subliminal message that the EU and the Euro were in trouble.
See below.
Accidental Art
The lads at the Come Here to Me! blog are always collecting first class graffiti from Dublin car parks.
This is something quite different. It is a piece of art created on a wall by a casually parked car and the angle of the sun earlier today.
The carpark is at Dunne's Donaghmede, and neither the car nor the wall have anything to do with me.
You can see both the car and the art in the shot below. It is a reflection from what we used to call the radiator, the shiney part across the front of the car. I checked it by selectively obstructing the light.
Isn't that something?
Free Range Battery Hens
My visualisation of a concept from Doug Rogers. Doug knows a bit about hens but a lot more about batteries.
The view is of part of No.7 Battery (Dublin South) seen from inside the Martello Tower.
Wednesday, July 03, 2013
Lost and Found
The above sign is at the junction of the N11 and the Wyattville Road at Loughlinstown.
It does not point to the end of the rainbow, where, these days, one might expect to find a crock of euro. Nor does it point to the euro lost property office, where the upright denizens of Ballybrack, unlike those of Hadleyburg, might be expected to have surrendered loose euro found along the roadside.
It does point to the European Foundation for the Improvement of Living and Working Conditions, formerly the residence of the Catholic Goodmans, and subsequently the Protestant Domvilles, and now this EU institution. Like every other body nowadays it has to have a pithy familiar title, hence Eurofound.
There is only one thing wrong with the sign.
The European insignia is upside down. The stars should be pointing up, not down.
An upside down flag is an internationally recognised sign of distress, and who can deny the current distress in which the euro finds itself. A distress which infects the living and working conditions of almost everone in the State at this moment.
So perhaps the sign, while not exactly telling us something we don't know, is an attempt to empathise with our plight.
It is the eighth incidence I have come across of such a breach of EU protocol, the others being: the French and Hungarian embassies and the EU Commission Office in Dublin, the European Parliament, Sinn Féin, TG4, and the hoopla stall at the Sásta Festival in Wexford Town.
My thanks to the ever vigilant Niall O'Donoghue for spotting this one and for the above photos.
Update 27/8/2013
This is turning into a plague. Two more turned up in the month of August. The first in the online edition of the Irish Times on the 13th and the other, spotted and photographed by my worthy apprentice, Vivion, at Kylemore Abbey on the 22nd. The Abbey is forgiven, as I understand they expressed firm purpose of amendment when their sin was pointed out to them.
That makes ten and counting.
Update 9/7/2015
My loyal and ever diligent apprentice informs me that, following an inspection last week, he can report the Kylemore EU flag is now flying correctly. Full marks to the Abbey.
However, the way the EU and Eurozone are going they may have to reverse this in the near future to reflect the current distress.
Tuesday, July 02, 2013
E
This detail from a current poster in my local supermarket.
Relax.
The E is not forgotten.
Just misplaced.
Check out the larger image.
A Plateful of Mortal Sins
Saw these guys on Dublin's Grafton Street the other evening.
Silent immobile art. Well, almost immobile.
They sometimes slowly moved their hands in greeting and occasionally exchanged positions, but mostly immobile.
And a bit sinister?
A friend, on seeing the above photo, thought the guy at front right " has a wonderful face. Like a plateful of mortal sins."
Judge for yourself.
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