The Dreaming Arm

The Dreaming Arm...

2008-11-12T21:29:00.001Z

Can now be reached at http://dreamingarm.wordpress.com.

Budapest 4

2008-03-23T18:30:00.002Z

Budapest 3

2008-03-23T12:36:00.003Z

Budapest 2

2008-03-23T12:33:00.000Z

Budapest 1

2008-03-23T12:24:00.002Z

A change of premises

2008-03-09T00:35:00.003Z

The Dreaming Arm office has now been relocated to:

http://dreamingarm.wordpress.com

Premier League looks to GAA for ideas

2008-02-21T16:29:00.002Z

It looks like the furore over the ridiculous commercially exploitative idea of Premiership football matches taking place overseas has died down after FIFA chairman Sepp Blatter effectively said "over my dead body". The Premier League has been accused of an obession with money and commercialisation which has been to the detriment of the football, not to mention the supporters. I broadly agree with this analysis, but contrast this with the attitude of a great non-professional sporting body, which has always prided itself on its amateur ethos, but has come in for some criticism of late because of its increasingly money-driven outlook - namely the GAA. The Premier League must have been inspired by dis great Asso-see-ayshun in coming up with the concept of playing matches abroad. The idea is far from new - and was in fact pioneered by the GAA when they decided to hold the 1947 All Ireland final between Cavan and Kerry in New York!

What next? The FA Cup final to be played in Croke Park?

Stranger things have happened.

Texans in Afghanistan

2008-02-11T21:04:00.000Z

Having seen the Coen brothers' No Country for Old Men (not a bad effort, but definitely overrated) recently, Charlie Wilson's War is the second film I've seen this year in which the main characters are Texans. Quite appropriate realy as a ral life Texan in a position of power will be out of a job soon!

Set in the 1980s during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan, Tom Hanks is the title role, a Texan congressman with a taste for whisky, women and cocaine, the unlikely hero (or antihero perhaps?) whose successful lobbying and diplomacy helps arm the Mujahadin and force the withdrawal of the Soviet military their country.

What ensues is a tangled web of unlikely allies with the Americans, Israelis, Saudis, Egyptians and Pakistanis collaborating to fund a covert war against the Soviets in Afghanistan. Wilson forging an alliance with the then Pakistani president General Zia is one of the more revealing aspects of the story.

There's a strong supporting cast with Julia Roberts as Wilson's part time mistress, a Texan millionaire with sympathies towards the Afghan cause and Philip Seymour Hoffman a CIA operative specialising in Afghanistan.
The arid mountainous landscapes of Morocco successfully resemble Afghanistan, as was the case in a Timothy Dalton James Bond. (Yes, I'm one of those obsessive anoraks who stay behind to read the end credits).

There is effective use of CGI effects in portraying explosions intermingled with actual archive footage from the time of the Soviet occupation. The "bad guys" are clearly the Russians. Scenes of Russian helicopters massacring Afghan civilians by bombing entire towns helps enforce this perception. What the Soviets did in Afghanistan cannot be condoned of course, but the film ignores the fact that the US militaty was doing similar things in Vietnam and Nicaragua. However, one wonders if there is an element of political satire here.

The topicality of the film is omnipresent in that it alludes subtly to the events of present day Afghanistan, not to mention Iraq. It is heavily hinted at towards the finish that the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan is far from the end of trouble in the region. Like a vicious circle the Americans arm the Afghans to fight and defeat the Russians, a scenario which eventually leads to the Taliban coming to power, the events of September 11 2001 and the ongoing "war on terror".

Primeval - a whole new can of worms

2008-01-20T21:46:00.000Z

After having been in the doldrums up until a few years ago (ie virtually non-existent) British TV science fiction seems to be going through something of a renaissance at the moment. The revitalised Doctor Who is going from strength to strength (even though it's not a patch on the old series - or at least certainly not on a par with the golden age of the show, the Jon Pertwee/early Tom Baker years of the early to mid-1970s) as is its spin-off series Torchwood -not to be confused with Touchwood the toad, Catweazle's familiar. Incidentally Geoffrey Bayldon the actor behind Catweazle (for the unitiated - a wizard from the middle ages who accidentally leaps forward in time to the 1970s - with hilarious consequences) was the apparently the original choice to play Dr Who, and what a fine Doctor he would have made - but I digress.

ITV's Saturday evening sci-fi drama Primevalseems to be their attempt to rival "Who", and a rather feeble attempt at that. It resembles a cross between "Who", The X-Files and Spooks, but its problem is that it takes itself much too seriously. Doctor Who was always primarily a childrens programme with a substantial adult audience. Primeval on the other hand, although transmitted well before the "watershed" is more "adult" in content. Sub plots involve characters copping off with each other with the obligatory sprinkling of sexual tension. "Who", by contrast always had an implied tongue-in-cheek style to the extent that you could enjoy it without taking too seriously.

Primeval is in some ways reminiscent of Jon Pertwee-era Doctor Who - a mixture of earthbound sci-fi and political intrigue, but fails abysmally to match up to Who's standards.

Apart from the ludicrous plot of this particular episode - a bunch of giant prehistoric man-eating worms running amok in a London office block - it never really got off the ground. Inevitably the worms were defeated in the end, but there was no explanation as to how they got there. In some ways it was similar to the 1970s Dr Who story The Green Death which featured giant maggots spawned as a result of pollution by a chemical company run by a megalomaniac computer. The spoof horor film Tremors also springs to mind.

The Dr Who equivalent character in Primeval is a dour Scottish scientist with strawberry blonde hair (and presumably a troubled past) who bears a fleeting resemblance to the tennis player Boris Becker.

The CGI-generated worms were even a disappointment - and not even as effective as the traditional rubber or plastic models of the pre-computer era. Given that Primeval is essentially about prehistoric creatures finding their way into the present day and wreaking havoc, it may well go the way of the dinosaurs if its future episodes are like this one.

A Different Ball Game: The GAA up North

2008-01-14T21:35:00.000Z

I've written an article on the social and political issues facing the GAA in Northern Ireland for the GAA website "An Fear Rua". It comes in two parts:

A Different Ball Game: Part I

A Different Ball Game: Part II

What does BMW really stand for?

2008-01-10T18:25:00.000Z

I sometimes tend to be an overcautious driver, especially when turning right. This morning I had indicated to turn right into a side street, but took me time to ensure that the road was clear of oncoming traffic. The motorist behind me who couldn't wait two seconds seemed to think I was taking too long and showed his impatience by beeping his horn at me. I hate this. People like this have no consideration for nervous or inexperienced drivers (not that I count myself in this categoery, having passed my driving test over 16 years ago, but drivers who should be treated with great consideration as they tend to be more careful than the average driver). I've also noticed that the more expensive or flashy the car is the ruder the driver tends to be. I drive a modest Fiat Punto. As it's mostly just myself who travels in the car I have no need for a bigger model.

I also have utter contempt for obnxious pricks with chips on their shoulder like Jeremy Clarkson who see the car they drive as some kind of masturbatory fantasy. Naturally enough I was delighted to see him humiliated recently after giving out his bank account number in the Sun newspaper in a pathetic attempt to disprove the current public hysteria over security of personal data, only to find that a reader had used it to successfully set up a direct debit account with a leading charity. The story has been amply covered within the blogosphere - see Memex and Johnny K for example. Clarkson's latest book is called "Don't Stop Me Now". A highly apropriately title - especially if he was driving over a cliff at the time.

Getting back to the story in hand, the impatient individual behind me was in a spanking new silver BMW. Now, I don't know idea what BMW stands (something in German I presume) and I can't be arsed looking it up on Wikipedia, but in his case it probably stands for "Bastard-faced Motherfucking Wanker".
When it was safe to turn into the side street, just to piss him off I drove as slowly as possible - roughly at the pace of an elderly snail on sedatives.

I briefly glanced towards his already infuriated countenance, and blew him a kiss for good measure. The expression on the bastard's face was absolutley priceless. It made my day.

Greatest Films of the '80s - Part 2

2008-01-09T20:48:00.000Z

Continuing on from a popular topic of conversation in student union bars up and down the county, here's the remainder of my list:

Company of Wolves - Neil Jordan's post-modernist reinterpretation of Little Red Riding Hood story - atmospheric, surreal and mind-bogglingly captivating

Gandhi - Dickie Attenborough's epic biopic of the man who liberated India, with Ben Kingsley in the title role

Jean de Florette/Manon des Sources - Technically two films, but inextricably linked so I'll count them as one for the purposes of this poll - tales of hardship, tragedy and disputed land ownership among small farmers amidst the breathtaking scenery of rural Provence. With some of the best known names in French cinema including Gerard Depardieu, Yves Montand, Daniel Auteil and Emanuelle Beart. Based on the novels by Marcel Pagnol. Just thinking about it brings back memories of A-level French all those years ago.

Cinema Paradiso - Giuseppe Tornatore's account of a young boy's coming of age in a Sicilian village and his love of the cinema

This is Spinal TapRob Reiner (alias Marin di Bergi's) spoof rock documentary which follows the trials and tribulations of a past-their-sell-by-date rock band their disastrous tour of America. Uncannily accuate it paved the way for the "mockumentary" genre of comedy of which The Office would become one of the most celebrated examples.

Greatest Films of the '80s

2008-01-06T20:26:00.000Z

A few nights ago (New Year's Eve to be precise, but that's soooo last year) I watched part of a programme on TV which claimed to be a rundown of the greatest films of the 1980s. Except that the films covered were far from "great". A more appropriate title would have been "Biggest Box Office blockbusters of the '80s". Ok, they did pick a few decent films like Dead Poets Society, Good Morning Vietnam, Crocodile Dundee and Rain Man, but such titles didn't fit in well with crap such as Top Gun, Terminator or Breakfast Club. Also on the list was Back to the Future, which I suppose is a great film if you're a 12-year old, (which I was back in 1986 when it was showing at the local cinema), but when you're 34 it doesn't quite have the same appeal.

Rather than getting experts like Mark Cousins, Derek Malcolm or Philip French in to talk about the films, the celebrated luminaries on the show included ex-junkie and desperately unfunny "comedian", the highly irritating Russell Brand. Incidentally, a friend suggested going to see the new St Trinians film which has just come out. When I mentioned to her that Brand was in it, she quickly changed her mind.

So off the top of my head, without thinking to much about it or googling anything, I've come up with my own top 11 films of the '80s. In no particular order:

The Mission - Roland Joffe's moving tale of 18th century Jesuit missionaries living amongst a tribe in Indians in the South American jungles and their battle against the colonial powers of Spain and Portugal, who with the support of the church hierarchy wish to enslave the natives and carve up the territories for their own selfish gains. Bob de Niro, Jeremy Irons and Liam Neeson on top form as Jesuit priests, spectacular location filming in Colombia and Argentina and a haunting soundtrack by one of the world's greatest composers Ennio Morricone.

Cry Freedom - Dickie Attenborough's inspirational account of the life and death of South African political activist Steve Biko (Denzel Washington) and his friendship with white anti-apartheid campaigner Donald Woods (Kevin Kline)

Withnail and I - Paul McGann and Richard E Grant get up to high jinks as two unemployed actors on a mad weekend at a remote country cottage.

The King of Comedy - Bob de Niro as the wannabe comedian who'll do anything to get on TV - one of Martin Scorcese's most underrated films.

Once Upon A Time in America - Master of the spaghetti western Sergio Leone turns his attention to immigrants and gangsterism in New York from prohibition to the present day in a 4-hour epic spanning several decades. Memorable soundtrack by Leone's long time collaborator Ennio Morricone.

OK, that's 5 so far. I don't have time to list the rest, so I'll do them in a future post.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Franco-Italian relations on the up

2008-01-05T11:54:00.000Z

Guido Fawkes in his blog brings our attention to the relationship between French president Nicholas Sarkozy and the glamorous Italian model Carla Bruni. The idea of one our political leaders in the Hiberno-Britannic archipelago pulling off such a coup would be unimaginable. There is of course the well documented laison between Lib Dem MP Lembit Opik and the cheeky girl, but can one picture the likes of Blair, Brown, Ahern, Salmond, Paisley or McGuinness arm in arm with a supermodel? As Alan Partridgfe would say "backo fthe net!"

Probably not worth blogging about, but a good excuse to print a titillating picture of Signorina Bruni in a pathetic attempt to get more publicity for this blog.

In praise of wee small oranges

2008-01-02T22:59:00.000Z

I don't like winter, with its cold weather and long dark nights. But one thing I do like about this time of year is the variety of small orange fruits like clementines, satsumas, mandarins and tangerines. Easy to peel, pleasant to the taste and oh so juicy - one of the hibernal season's few redeeming features. Be thankful for small (orange) mercies.

Crap joke about a South American politician
Which South American politician wears a burberry baseball cap, a shell suit and chunky gold jewellery and can be seen walking rottweilers around a council estate?

Hugo Chav-ez.

Cue the usual stoney-faced glares and deathly silence punctuated by the swooshing of tumble weeds and distant clang of a funeral bell.

I hope Yule have a good one

2007-12-23T17:53:00.000Z

To all readers of the Arm have a wonderful politically incorrect Christmas.

Conrad fades to Black (or any number of similarly crap puns)

2007-12-11T13:29:00.002Z

Following the sentencing of fraudster Conrad Black to six and a half years, The Daily Telegraph, once owned by Black quotes disgraced former Tory MP, an ex-jailbird himself who served time for perjury and has come out in support of the bad boy from the Black stuff:

“These offences would carry a lower tariff in the United Kingdom and Europe. If I had been on the jury I would have voted to acquit him anyway.”

A case of the blind leading the blind. Dream on, Johnny boy. If we lived in a world where criminals got let off, there would be no justice. Perhaps if the jury had consisted of Aitken along with Jeffrey Archer, Neil and Christine Hamilton, Bertie Ahern, Michael O’Leary, Alisher Usmanov, Roman Abramovitch, Simon Cowell, Sharon Osborne, Louis Walsh and some other lovely person the Black Sheep might have got off on a technicality, but there you go. The hacks at Private Eye will be no doubt having a field day dreaming up satirical headlines and cartoons.

Darwin’s Theory of Evolution (and insurance fraud) made simple

2007-12-11T13:29:00.001Z

Pretend to die in a canoeing accident, get your wife to claim the life insurance on it, grow a Victorian scientist-type beard and piss off to Central America, then hand yourself to the cops five years later and pretend you’ve lost your memory – and there you have it. Or is that the Creationist theory?

Footballing n-Euro-sis for England fans

2007-12-11T13:28:00.000Z

Barney Ronay commenting on England’s failure to qualify for the 2008 European Championships summed it up perfectly in The Guardian a few weeks ago:

“Next summer will be notable for the absence of people with painted faces drinking 12 pints of Hoegaarden while watching England play Sweden at the back room of their local Wetherspoons. The ongoing will-they-can-they-should-they-it’s-a-bleeding disgrace dialogue that circulates through every office, train carriage, school, building site and blog in the country, like a gigantic viral Chinese whisper, will be stillborn.”

As far as I know Wetherspoons pubs have a policy of not having televisions (or music or pool tables, etc), but apart from this he’s more or less summed it up.

Ryanair boss O’Leary gets called nasty names by writer in Northern Irish political journal

2007-11-22T21:39:00.000Z

"Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone
It’s with O’Leary in the grave”
The above quotation from WB Yeats’ poem September 1913 appears to prove the expression what goes around comes around. Although the poem was written
almost a century ago it could quite easily apply to the present day, but the contemporary O’Leary is not in the grave (although many disgruintled former Ryanair passengers may wish he was) and in fact represents the antithesis of Yeats' misty eyed idealised notion of saints and scholars dancing around a circle of standing stones - ie Ireland’s (if not Europe’s) least popular businessman Michael O’Leary, head honcho at Europe’s least popular airline Ryanair.
Anyway, to get to the point, the latest issue of Fortnight, Northern Ireland’s monthly (not fortnightly, despite the title – a potential goldmine for a raft of Irish jokes) political and cultural journal recently arrived on my door mat courtesy of the Arm’s Belfast correspondent. In it there are articles by our occasional contributor, the very same (or should that be “very sane”?) Phil Larkin on the SDLP and our one-off contributor Andrew Charles on Fianna Fáil moving north (remember folks – you saw them here first!), but what caught my eye was a piece on Ryanair’s top man. John O’Farrell (apparently not the same guy who wrote Things Can Only Get Better: Eighteen Miserable Years in the Life of a Labour Supporter) makes it clear from the start that he’s not terribly fond of Michael O’Leary or the socio-economic sub-culture that he comes from. Drawing on material from Alan Ruddock’s book Michael O’Leary: a Life in Full Flight, (which he is similarly unimpressed by) O’Farrell launches into a structured character assassination of “The Man We Love to Hate with the airline We Still Keep Using” and his ilk

One particular paragraph stands out:
“The uncomfortable feeling that returned to me continually was not the horrible thought that the odd time that I bought 20 Rothmans from Kestral Corner might have sent this horrible vacuous man to his present stratospheric heights, but the noise he makes. It sent me back to The Bailey in the early ‘80s, to that braying racket of wannabe rich kids high-fiveing each other over sloppy pints of ‘Heino’, and reminded me that for all my liberal tolerance there is still a group of people on this Earth that reduce me to an almost genocidal rage. I still think they’re c***s. I know that their identical descendants are still festering the same waterholes and adoring the waggery and brass neck of their hero Michael O’Leary.
There. I said it. I wholeheartedly recommend this book if you want a terrifying vision of the future, of an economy dominated by men with not a shred of decency, an ounce of humanity or a spit of morality.”

I'm no fan of O'Leary either, but the reputation of a man who thrives on being despised can only be strengthened by such a diatribe. Romantic Ireland dead and gone indeed.

Shoot 'em up: Morecambe and Wise glorifying gun crime?

2007-11-21T16:04:00.000Z

The papers report the controversy surrounding the poster for the film Shoot'Em Up. The poster has been accused of being in bad taste as it allegedly glorifies gun crime. I suppose the complainants have a point, particularly as the actor depicted, Paul Giamatti bears an uncanny resemblance to the late comedian Eric Morecambe, one half of the celebrated double act Morecambe and Wise. Perhaps the film's publicists should "wise" up and design a more tasteful poster.
Cue deathly, eerie silence punctuated by the swooshing of tumbleweeds in the wind and the distant clanging of a funeral bell…the day job is still intact

On travel writers, comedians and Stuart Maconie

2007-11-17T11:26:00.000Z

I'm a voracious reader of travel books. There are basically three categories of travel writing. On the one extreme there's the learned erudite works for the discerning reader which really get to grips with the culture and politics of a country, as exemplified by the likes of Dervla Murphy, Paul Theroux or Colin Thubron. On the other extreme there are the whimsical books usually written in tongue-in-cheek style by comedians or other media personalities who embark on a specific task of peculiar proportions such as Tony Hawkes lugging a fridge around Ireland or playing the Moldovans at tennis, or Tim Moore cycling the route of the Tour de France. There's also those who lie somewhere in between, such as Bill Bryson or Michael Palin who do the semi-intellectual stuff, but at the same time you get the impression that they're not taking themselves entirely seriously.

The Independent observes this trend in a brown-nosing and somewhat snooty piece as an additon to its regular Friday book charts round-up:

"For every Pies and Prejudice, in which comedian (sic) Stuart Maconie (above) hangs out in Blackpool and Yorkshire eating fish and chips and geting in touch with his Northern soul, there's a Tony Hawks, trekking around Europe with a fridge/piano/tennis racket; for every Good Pub Guide there's a Tribe. It's a relief when a writer like Michael Palin or Bill Bryson comes along to peer into the world and elucidate the journey with wit and wisdom and no gimmicks. Which is why they're always best-sellers, and why they are national treasures".

Stuart Maconie, a decent writer, despite what's written above may have a smart-arse style which is generally humorous and quite tongue-in-cheek, but to describe him as a "comedian" is stretching it a bit. He's a rock journo by trade, now enjoying the fruits of life as a DJ and prsenter who churns out the odd book, but I suppose he should take the comedian label as a compliment. Unless the Independent writer meant it in a contemptuous sense, as in someone not to be taken seriously. If that's the case then there is a hell of a lot of "comedians" around, including this anonymous Independent journalist.

Schwarznegger and The Simpsons: California Dreamin'?

2007-11-15T12:32:00.000Z

Quote of the Day:
"Arnold Schwarzenegger is the governor of California. Sometimes I still wake up believing that this only happened in an episode of The Simpsons."

Tim Dowling, The Guardian

Stuart Maconie and the nostalgic north

2007-11-10T10:30:00.000Z

Having recently read Pies and Prejudice, an excellent semi-tongue-in-cheek travelogue-come-socio-cultural treatise on the North of England by BBC radio DJ Stuart Maconie I've just started reading another of his books Cider with Roadies . This book is a sort of semi-autobiogrpahical account of growing up in Wigan in the 1970s and the cultural influences of the time from Northern Soul to Progressive Rock, which later goes on to describe his bizarre experiences as a music journalist.
This particular paragraph gives a flavour of Maconie’s quirky style:

“I went to and from school, learned about the Anti-Corn Law League and Brownian Motion and tried not to get “strapped” by Brother Ring, the most sadistic of the bullying bog-trotters who taught me – or the Christian Brothers to give them their official name. When not thus engaged, I would be watching Fawlty Towers or Ripping Yarns, smoking furtively in a variety of toilets, parks and bus shelters or engaged, equally furtively, in a kind of amiable hand-to-hand contact with a girl from Orrell called Hilary. In an almost comical piece of good luck, Hilary turned out to be a teenage nympho whose dad owned an off-licence, a semi-mythical creature not normally found outside the fantasies of Sid James.”

As a former Christian Brothers boy myself I can relate to this although to be fair they weren’t all like that.
I haven’t finished the book yet, but so far it's a riveting read.

"Insubstantial Transubstantiation" or "The Communion Winos"

2007-11-07T19:58:00.000Z

I came across a rather bizarre article on the front page of the Irish Times of Friday 2nd November on what must have been a slow news day – the main front page headline was about figures showing a drop in support for Bertie Ahern and Fianna Fail. I wasn’t sure if it was for real or a very early (or very late) April Fool's joke. It was like one of those news headlines which catches your attention only for you to find out that it's been written by "Loof Lirpa" (read it backwards if you haven't worked it out), but it seems like it is genuine - it was even reported in the (English)Independent the following day. In a story which sounded like something out of Father Ted it was reported that Catholic priests in rural parishes across Ireland are concerned that celebrating two or three masses in the same day could put them over the legal limit for drink driving.
It would be amusing if it wasn’t for the potentially serious implications. But surely if the wine is transformed into the blood of Jesus Christ during the Communion rite (if one is to take the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation at face value - aside from any accusations of vampirism), then priests should have nothing to worry about as the "wine" in their bloodstreams is no longer alcohol, but blood? Or is it that they don't believe in their own beliefs? Perhaps some learned theologians out there can shed some light on the matter.

Anthony Clare 1942-2007

2007-10-31T18:47:00.001Z

I was shocked to hear about the untimely death at the relatively young age of 64 of the popular psychiatrist and broadcaster Professor Anthony Clare.
Clare was a brilliant mind as well as a colourful character. He would occasionally provide commentary for TV documentaries like the popular science programme QED (including a particularly interesting one on the forensic analysis of the Shroud of Turin broadcast back in the 1980s), mixing erudite views with quirky humour, but is perhaps best known for his Radio 4 show “In the Psychiatrist’s Chair”, a sort of psychiatric version of Desert Island Discs or This is your life, in which he would interview prominent figures and bring out their inner feelings.
When I was researching depression recently I picked up a fascinating book “Depression and how to survive it” which took the form of a series of interviews between Clare and the late comedian Spike Milligan – a meeting of great minds (albeit very different minds) if ever there was one.

A High Ahern-er - Bertie’s even bigger bulging brown envelope

2007-10-31T18:23:00.000Z

Would you buy a used car off any of these men?

As I’ve remarked before, coverage of Irish (Republic of at least) politics is virtually non-existent in the UK press unless some major scandal or other momentous event has occurred. Yesterday’s Guardian in its pull-out tabloid section has a short article by the distinguished journalist Henry McDonald on “An Taoiseach” Bertie Ahern and his recent pay rise.
Apparently Bertie’s salary increase of 14.6% to £217,000 has made him the “highest paid leader of the world’s richest nations”. As if he hadn’t already accumulated enough in backhanders…allegedly that is.

Crap joke alert: As speculation continues on the possibility of a merger between Fianna Fáil and the SDLP, one important question remains. If FF do merge with the SDLP and set up their northern HQ in Derry will they call themselves Fianna Foyle?
Yes, you’ve guessed it – cue deathly, eerie silence punctuated by the swooshing of tumbleweeds in the wind and the distant clanging of a funeral bell…the day job is still intact.

The Trans-Iberian Express stops yet again in London/Quote of the day
“English football has been struggling to fill the wiry southern European pin-up shaped-hole where football meets the celebrity mainstream, since the departure of Jose Mourinho.
Where Mourinho turned up resembling a recently retired menswear model turned Mafioso power-broker, Ramos looks more like a really tough chip-shop owner. Or, on a bad day, Pat Butcher after an experiment with Grecian 2000.”

Barney Ronay in The Guardian on Tottenham’s new manager Juande Ramos.

Stiff Little Fingers - Ulsterior Motive

2007-10-22T21:47:00.001+01:00

I was in the kitchen doing the washing up a few nights ago while listening to the Mark Radcliffe show on BBC Radio 2 when this track came on. I quickly reached for the record button on the stereo and have had the song going through my head ever since. I’ve never been a fan of Stiff Little Fingers or the punk wave as a whole (it was a bit before my time in any case!), and am generally unfamiliar with their work, but this particular song, their acknowledged magnum opus certainly strikes a chord. No pun intended.

The song is fast and furious, capturing the disaffected mindset of a bunch of angry young men growing up in 1970s Belfast. But were they the genuine article? In a series of public spats with another well-known Northern Irish band who emerged from the punk scene of the late ‘70s, The Undertones dismissed them as a bunch of middle class boys from the suburbs who’d never been in a riot in their lives and were basically exploiting the political situation by writing songs about things they knew nothing about. Similar accusations have been levelled at southern bands like U2 and The Cranberries. The Undertones studiously avoided this subject in favour of teenage kicks, mars bars and perfect cousins, but weren’t exactly popular in their home town. There’s the old joke about the three most hated groups in Derry - the RUC, the British army and the Undertones. A classic case of Derry begrudgery perhaps?

Getting back to Stiff Little Fingers (after many hours at this keyboard that could have a quite literal meaning), the fact that Alternative Ulster’s still being played on the radio after almost 30 years must have some significance. With all the heated debate about sports teams and national anthems (just check out the football-related threads over at Slugger O’Toole!), maybe this song should become the official anthem for the Northern Ireland soccer team at Windsor Park. And before anyone raises the old “what about Cavan/Monaghan/Donegal?” issue, be fair – “Alternative Six Counties” or “Alternative two thirds of Ulster” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, now does it?

China Crisis

2007-10-21T20:59:00.000+01:00

With a year to go before the eyes of the world are on China as it hosts the 2008 Olympics, the authorities look set to loosen their grip on press freedom. Chinese censorship of blogs and websites which disagree with Chairman Hu Jintao's regime has become notorious (see "The Great Firewall of China" published in this blog last year), but there are ways around this. The international journalists’ human rights group Reporters without Borders has published a revealing report in co-operation with the Chinese Human Rights Defenders into the internet censorship practices employed by the Chinese authorities.

According to a report in last week'sObserver, China no longer enjoys the power of veto in the UN Security Council. It was forced to backtrack in its position on Burma. As the Communist Party of the world's fourth largest economy of an increasingly freer market - but not so free elections or free dissidents -prepares to choose its next leader Will Hutton in the same paper speculates on whether Hu Jintao’s successor will be China’s Gorbachev.

However, a disturbing aspect of the Beijing Olympic story was covered in Channel 4's Unreported World which revealed the story of unscrupulous property developers forcibly removing residents from their homes to make way for luxury apartments and cash in on the Olympic dividend.

If this blog was based in China, it would most likely be censored or shut down and its author harassed by the authorities if not jailed. Isn't freedom of expression a great thing?

True to the old Chinese proverb, it looks like we’re living in interesting times.

The Horny Ornithologists

2007-10-11T22:22:00.001+01:00

Keeping up with the wildlife theme (in a manner of speaking), at the request of The Arm's regular contributor, Phil, whose birthday it was recently (belated happy birthday Phil!), here's a vintage comedy clip featuring the comic double act Smith and Jones impersonating another comedy double act, the Two Ronnies - with hilarious consequences.
In response to our regular commenter Lady Fotherington-Smethers who has accused this blog of having become too intellectual and erudite of late - we aim to please. After all we like birds.

Secret Squirrels: Profusion of grey matter sparks red alert

2007-10-11T21:47:00.000+01:00

Any visitor to London’s parks can’t fail to notice the abundance of squirrels - or more specifically grey squirrels, the foreign invader imported from America in the 19th century to embellish urban parkland - as opposed to its smaller relative the native European red squirrel, an increasingly rare species in these isles. Now only confined to a few remote areas in England, the red squirrel is also under threat across the Irish Sea.
RTE reports on the findings of the Irish Squirrel Survey 2007 which confirms that the grey’s rise is at the expense of the red. According to the survey the grey variety has spread to west of the Shannon to areas it was previously absent from. The red is now supposedly extinct in four eastern counties and could be endangered by a virus.

It’s reassuring to see that at least in parts of continental Europe the red trumps the grey.

Not quite the only grey in the village - a red squirrel in Prague mingles with the tourists (Picture by Aiden Fitzsimons)

Dead Comics Society, Issue 1: Kenny Everett

2007-10-05T22:56:00.001+01:00

The Dreaming Arm is proud to announce a new semi-regular feature on tributes to deceased comedians. Over the coming times the likes of Les Dawson, Spike Milligan, Benny Hill, Peter Cook, Dave Allen, Dermot Morgan, James Young, Kenneth Williams and Ronnie Barker will be remembered. I would like this to be a collaborative venture with you, the reader, so all contributions of your favourite memories of the great court jesters of our time will be welcome.
There will be a distinct bias towards British and Irish comedians, as I’m not really familiar enough with American comedians, but any contributions on the likes of Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce or Bill Hicks would be most welcome.
Dead Comics Society will be an irreverent, but not disrespectful look at those whose unique styles have enriched our lives (ok, an over-the-top way of putting it, but you know what I mean) - using your own memories of these people rather than relying too much on Google and other source materials. The series kicks off with a piece on the inimitable Kenny Everett.

Dead Comics Society, Issue 1: Nothing lasts for Ever-ett
At the height of Kenny Everett's comedy career in the early to mid-1980s I was no more than 9 or 10 years old and probably too young to understand some of the more risqué gags. Like many of my classmates at the time I found his cheeky over-the-top style hilarious. His show tended to be talk of the school playground the next day, considerably spurred on, no doubt by parental disapproval!
Many well-known comedians began their show-biz careers within a different field of entertainment before discovering their talent for inducing laughter - Bernard Manning as a singer and compere, Billy Connolly as a folk musician and Ronnie Barker as a straight actor. Everett was one of the few entertainers to have made the successful transition from DJ to comedian. He is generally acknowledged to have been the driving force behind Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” getting to number 1 in 1975, after playing it repeatedly on his radio show.
An unlikely candidate for the Catholic priesthood in his youth, Everett was rumoured to have lived a flamboyant lifestyle of drug abuse and sexual promiscuity. Such a lifestyle cannot be condoned of course, but he should be judged on his public persona alone, not by the shortcomings in his private life. The almost obligatory tendency of the press to use the clichéd phrase “zany, whacky Kenny Everett” (or variations of it) any time he was mentioned was ironic in that Everett suffered from depression - a not uncommon trait among comedians. Spike Milligan, Kenneth Williams and Tony Hancock who eventually took his own life as a result are all striking examples - and more recently Stephen Fry who took the brave step of going public about his condition. Neither was Everett the only comic to have come to an untimely end after a life of excess. The ingenious Peter Cook, a heavy smoker and drinker for much of his life, in particular springs to mind.

Everett with Billy Connolly

Everett I believe, hasn’t had the credit he deserves, considering how ground-breaking and innovative his material was at the time. Guests on his show included fellow comedians like Bernard Manning and Billy Connolly as well as popular musicians of the day such as The Police, Rod Stewart and Freddie Mercury. Despite the current plethora of nostalgia-laden “retro” TV documentaries and endless lists of top 100 comedians/sitcoms, etc Everett very rarely gets a mention nowadays - I suspect this may be partly due to the manner of his death and the taboo which still surrounds HIV/AIDS. It may also be related to his lack of longevity and enduring success. By the late 1980s he had effectively gone past his sell-by date as a comic. This however should not detract from the inimitable style of his early shows. Everett was essentially a DJ who ventured into comedy for a comparatively brief period of his career, so it would be unfair to compare him with the likes of Spike Milligan, Benny Hill or Kenneth Williams whose long careers as comic performers defined their public reputations.
He is chiefly remembered for the range of zany characters he portrayed. These included the cartoon interstellar crusader Captain Kremen, lecherous Frenchman Marcel Wave, sexually repressed city gent “Angry of Mayfair” in pinstripes and bowler hat (who would rant away to the camera about the sordid and disgusting nature of the previous sketch, only to turn his back and reveal that he was wearing womens underwear), the blonde and busty, (yet bearded) Hollywood bimbo, the spooneristically named Cupid Stunt, evangelical preacher with giant hands Brother Lee Love, leather-clad punk biker Sid Snott. Although Everett is generally not considered to have ever been part of the new wave of alternative comedy spearheaded by the likes of Ben Elton and Alexei Sayle in the late 1970s and early 1980s, his unique brand of anarchic humour was in its day without doubt a ground-breaking “alternative” to what had gone before. The anarchic style was not unlike that of Monty Python which had aired a few years previously.

The increasing reliance of scantily-clad young women and smuttier material in Everett's show to boost the ratings towards the end of his comedy career marked a decline in the quality present in his earlier works - a charge which could also be levelled at Benny Hill in the latter stages of his career. Although vulgarity had always been part and parcel of Everett’s quintessentially cheeky style of humour, it gradually lost its underlying subtlety as the show went on, signalling a definite downhill trajectory.
Nevetherless, Everett will be remembered for hsi comic talent and his ability to constantly shock and surprise. Many of my generation will carry fond memories of the time when his sketches and crazy characters were the talk of the school yard.

Bertie & co decide it's not so grim up North after all

2007-10-04T21:52:00.000+01:00

While Phil's take on the future of the SDLP remains relatively lukewarm off the press, here's another article, also penned by a guest writer, Andrew Charles on Fianna Fáil's apparent plans to throw their hat into the arena of Northern Irish politics
CW

Fianna Fáil moves North
The decision of Fianna Fáil, the Irish Republic's governmental party to consider organising on a cross-border basis may cause great concern and debate not only among Unionists, but also Nationalists in Northern Ireland. The party's presence at recent Northern Ireland University Fresher day events, in the hope of recruiting members, seems that they are serious about campaigning here. In competition with Sinn Féin and the SDLP, Fianna Fáil boasted success, particularly at the University of Ulster's Magee campus. They also had a strong presence at Queen’ University, where they were placed beside the Democratic Unionists, provoking much laughter from visiting First Minister, Ian Paisley and colleagues.

Political conditions prior to May 2007 would not have permitted Fianna Fáil to organise north of the border, as the party leadership sought to carry on post-Anglo-Irish Agreement relations in acting as neutral observers of the peace process in order to broker a deal. Despite 10 years of political bargaining it now appears that both British and Irish governments have successfully achieved their goal in creating power-sharing between Ulster’s Unionists and Nationalists.

Fianna Fáil, meaning ‘soldiers of destiny’, set up by Eamon DeValera in 1927 has always maintained that they are an Irish republican party seeking the re-unification of Ireland. Some may question the Party’s motives as when Bertie Ahern came to power in the Republic he sought to broker a political deal in Northern Ireland. In his quest he sought to reach out to Unionism, seeking to comfort Unionist suspicions by publicly stating that he recognised Northern Ireland's position within the United Kingdom and supported the principle of consent. However the political climate was very different then. The SDLP led Northern Nationalism with Sinn Féin playing second fiddle. Now the tables have turned and the electoral fortunes of Sinn Féin have surpassed those of the SDLP. A DUP/Sinn Féin coalition government led by Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness is now in existence; creating political stability with all main players signed up to a deal and benefiting from the fruits of political power. Ten years ago one would have thought all this was impossible and some could only dream, or have nightmares. These changes within the current political climate have made it possible for Fianna Fáil to organise in Northern Ireland.

It could be suggested that Fianna Fáil have made this move for two reasons. Either to follow and aspire to their founding fathers' aims and objectives, in pursuit of a United Ireland or to address the electoral competition faced from SF, north and south of the border. SF were returned to the Irish Parliament in the elections earlier this year with one seat less - despite being predicted to gain ten seats and become potential 'king-makers' of a new coalition government. This however did not transpire to the surprise of many. Perhaps one suggestion as to their party decision is that FF recognise a possible future threat from SF, south of the border, should they demonstrate an ability to deliver effective and stable Government in Northern Ireland. This could appeal to a larger voter base in the Republic, as the party lacked this in the recent southern elections. SF pose a threat to the political power base of FF - who have successfully managed to retain their position in government on successive occasions, making themselves part of the Irish establishment.
The speed at which this announcement has been made generates various theories; Fianna Fáil need to organise quickly in order to contest threats from Sinn Féin in further elections, whereby Sinn Féin will continue outpoll the SDLP in Northern Ireland and perhaps offer effective competition to Fianna Fáil south of the border.

Whether Fianna Fáil merge with the SDLP or 'go it alone' it will seek to change the political landscape in Northern Ireland, and perhaps the Republic. As for Unionists, Fianna Fáil offer no direct electoral threat, but if the "soldiers of destiny" can successfully establish themselves in Northern Ireland they could pose a threat to the Union with an Irish republican governmental party from south of the border making headway up north.

Andrew Charles is a graduate of Queen’s University Belfast and a current PhD Doctoral student.

"THE SDLP’S CHALLENGE"

2007-09-28T22:58:00.000+01:00

The Dreaming Arm's Belfast correspondent Phil Larkin is back with another piece of insightful political analysis. This time Phil turns his attention to the SDLP and ponders the implications of a possible merger with Fianna Fáil.
CW

“Everything is in flux: one cannot step in the same river twice.”
Heraclitus

Introduction
In July this author wrote a piece for the blog analysing the effects which Sinn Féin’s poor election performance in the Irish Republic may have on the political scene in Northern Ireland. A number of conclusions were reached, the most significant being that SF’s advance in Southern Irish politics has been checked, and perhaps ended permanently. The Republic’s political establishment is, to say the least, unenthusiastic about accepting SF as equals, and really do not wish to suffer any sizeable militant Republican presence in the Dail.
This still leaves SF with a powerful electoral mandate in the North, as the leading nationalist party, currently holding the key ministries of Deputy First Minister, Agriculture, and Education.

So what of the Social Democratic and Labour Party (henceforth SDLP) of whom those of us interested in Irish politics, north and south, hear so little about? One key theme over the past decade has been the relative decline of the SDLP as a political force in relation to SF, falling from their position as the leading nationalist party at the time of the Good Friday Agreement in 1998. At the last Assembly elections, the SDLP had elected 16 MLAs to the NI Assembly, in comparison with SF’s 28, and three Westminster MPs in comparison with SF’s 5. The SDLP presently holds only the social development portfolio in the form of the very able and feisty Margaret Ritchie. Some commentators have gone so far as to predict the complete demise of the SDLP as a political party, given its electoral decline, and its current political pusillanimity. It is sometimes referred to as a “dead man walking.” Yet it is surely premature to make such speculation.

It will be a central argument in this article that such an apocalyptic outcome is by no means inevitable, and that the SDLP can rise again from its present position to become a real and lasting force in Irish politics. To achieve such a feat, as I will argue below, will mean the SDLP having to garner the necessary courage and energy to confront a number of demons both inside and outside its own Party confines, and offer real choice and constructive policy commitments to the Northern Ireland electorate, unionist and nationalist. It must also be prepared to open a number of battlefronts with SF ranging from the historical to the economic, and challenge the latter on these grounds. This is a matter of some urgency for the Party in the coming years, as is the need for it to resolve its current crisis of identity. All of this is quite separate from the relations which the SDLP must forge with the unionist community and electorate. This author also contends that the controversial discussions with Fianna Fail, which will be conducted over the next decade or so and may lead to a merger between the two parties is also a firm step in the right direction. These themes will be developed below.

A Crisis of Identity
It is instructive sometimes to have a look at party websites, paying very careful attention to their manifesto commitments and policy statements. These reveal the political character of the organization in stark black and white form. A cursory glance at the SDLP website and the on-line manifesto reveals more of a lack of political character than a proper programme for government. This may appear to be a harsh judgment, but what they offer, at basic level, is little more than a homeopathic version of the SF manifesto, served up with a lot less gusto and certainty than the latter are able to manage. One is left with the overall impression that the SDLP does not have a political destination or aim in mind, is unsure of what identity it should adopt, and is vacillating about the message which it should give to the nationalist electorate.
For example, relative primacy of place is given in the manifesto to the message that the SDLP should be a “persuader” for the benefits of a “united Ireland”, a message which they intend to sell to the unionist community. What they mean exactly by a united Ireland is not elaborated upon. Does it entail the goal of a “32 county Irish Republic”, the crudest and most dated form of nationalist dogma, which will never gain the approval or respect of the unionist community? Is it regression to the nauseating and folorn hope often expressed by nationalist commentators in the past that demographic changes will render unionism insignificant in Ireland? Or, on the other hand, does it mean working hard to build tangible and beneficial links with the unionist population, the southern political establishment and Westminster to achieve the economic prosperity necessary to ensure a bright, shared future for all the peoples of Ireland?

It’s true that the SDLP manifesto does mention a commitment to economic growth, strengthening North/South economic and financial links and lobbying the Labour Government to cut corporation tax rate in Northern Ireland to a level comparable with the Republic’s. But much of this talk is vague, and buried among policy statements on the protecting human rights and opposing MI5 adopting responsibility for anti-paramilitary security. Other clues as to the SDLP’s political complexion are contained on the website: one flyer invites delegates to a seminar entitled “Civil Rights in the 21st Century”; the “news and events” section has photos of John Hume receiving an honorary doctorate in some US College, even though he has not been party leader for many years. This speaks volumes.

Civil Rights and the Legacy of Hume
It is not the intention of this article to advance the thesis that questions of human and minority rights and civil rights are in any way unimportant, and irrelevant to the north’s future. They certainly are, and will always remain so. However, it must be stated that the overemphasis on community and group rights in the SDLP’s manifesto reveals certain unpalatable realities about the nature of the Party’s policies, and demonstrates the reasons for the Party’s current weaknesses. It will certainly be strong medicine for SDLP activists to swallow, but accept it they must, if the Party is to extricate itself from the languor in which it wallows.
The first truth is that the constant emphasis on individual and group rights indulged in by both communities in Northern Ireland is essentially a hangover from the decades of “zero-sum” politics from which the province suffered. Any advantage gained (or, more usually, perceived to be gained) by one community was seen as gained at the expense of the other, who, in return, demanded the same “rights” off London, or else lobbied Dublin to secure them. This bred a pernicious legacy. Most importantly, it led both unionists and nationalists seeing themselves as victims, and obscured the reality that all groups could work together for a shared and prosperous future. Overemphasis on “rights” by political groupings is not symptomatic of a politically confident and economically advanced society: just witness how far Gerry Adams’ plaintive cry that “people have rights”, when talking about the southern economy, advanced him and his party with Irish voters during the May election.

Secondly, there is one obvious point which is frequently missed in regarding all discussions on human rights. That a civil, social, or economic right has been recognised and yielded does not necessarily mean that the matching need or desire (or perceived need or desire) will be met and satiated. It is often forgotten that “rights” to certain services, such as health care, university education, and social services, come at a high price, and often must be earned by individuals in society: one has the “right” to drive a Jaguar and live in a country mansion, but without the financial wherewithal to bring this to reality, it remains just that, a “right.” Too often both unionists and especially nationalists have talked about “rights” as a form of magic touchstone, and expected (and continue to expect) the UK and Irish Governments to indulge their communities’ needs, without facing up to the hard grind of creating a strong, cohesive and wealthy society on which the preservation of such rights depend, or reaching out in a meaningful way to each other. It also helps preserve the inter-communal antipathy which political leaders should be striving vigorously to overcome.

Thirdly, one brief point is that human rights of any description should in reality be taken as accepted as a bare minimum; to be constantly invoking rights should not be an activity which encouraged in any political community, whose members surely have aspirations to bigger and better things: greater affluence, higher education, better cars and houses.

Finally, as far as the SDLP is concerned, the premium placed on “rights” may be a symptom of the early days of the Party and the experiences of its leaders, above all John Hume, who made his name during the civil rights campaign of the late 1960s. Historically, the SDLP was founded on a coalition of different personalities, and not on any decided ideological programme. It was comprised of individuals from an essentially nationalist background, such as Hume, as well as civil rights activists such as Ivan Cooper, and Labour socialists like Gerry Fitt and Paddy Devlin, none of whom necessarily had much in common. Hume’s influence remains strong within the Party, and perhaps this is understandable, since he remained such a towering figure during much of the 30 years of the troubles and the succeeding “peace process.” He also did much for his native Derry. But his elevation in many quarters to secular sainthood and supreme political strategist, and the fact that much of what has been written about him tends to be hagiographic (bordering on mawkish), prevents any real evaluation of his legacy both within the SDLP and the wider field of Irish political history. The uncomfortable truths that he did little to consolidate a cohesive political party, neglected party structures and organisation, and was often reluctant to initiate open debate on key constitutional issues within the Party are obfuscated more often than not. Hume, at base, disliked taking the views of others, even fellow constitutional nationalists, into account. His political utterances tended to be somewhat bland and predictable (“spilling our sweat and not our blood”, etc) and as the historian John A. Murphy has pointed out, the analogies he made comparing the harmony between France and Germany engendered by the European Union, and what relations among unionists and nationalists in Northern Ireland could be like, were naïve, simplistic, and inappropriate. Equally fatally, for all his purported willingness to engage with anyone who could bring a lasting solution to the troubles, he did not understand unionists and made no real effort to accommodate their political aspirations in his plans. As a result, as Murphy has also stated, unionists disliked and distrusted him. In the end, it was left to Bertie Ahern and Fianna Fail to reassure unionists that their rights and identity were not under threat, thus paving the way for the present constitutional settlement in the north. The fact that the SDLP leadership continues to be based in Derry and not Belfast is also testament to Hume’s influence.

Whither the SDLP?
The discussion above will no doubt make unhappy reading for SDLP members. It should do, since it is designed with this aim in mind. However, all is not lost by any means for the Party, and it should not be written off for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, as outlined above, any long-term upturn in Party fortunes will involve a great deal of soul searching, ruthless policy changes, diligence, the strength to front the nationalist community in the north with some hard truths, and, above all, the willingness to come to close quarters with their main rivals, SF, on a variety of policy issues. These themes must be developed further.
Perhaps the most fundamental message that the SDLP needs to emphasise is that constitutional arrangements in Northern Ireland, together with the North/South and East/West links, have now been settled to the satisfaction of the UK and Irish Governments, and are the most that the nationalist community in the north can hope for. SDLP efforts should be concentrated on strengthening the integrity of the present settlement, and on working for constructive relations with unionists. This much ought to receive primacy of place in the Party manifesto. Propounding the notion that in some way the unionist population will ever be persuaded to sign up to any form of a 32 county republic governed from Dublin, or even suggesting this, is to perpetuate a myth, as well as being unsettling to the unionists, and profoundly irritating to the Irish political establishment. Vagaries about one community “out-breeding” another should also be struck firmly on the head. If SF wishes to continue pursuing either or both of these lines, then that should be their prerogative alone.
This leads on to a wider point: the SDLP simply can never outperform SF in the purely nationalist stakes. The latter will always be “dyed in a deeper green” than the former, and the present SDLP strategy of attempting to don the SF mantle and trailing lamely in their wake should be jettisoned, along with much of Hume’s legacy. It is the same with the “rights” game. SF has made itself master in this field, and the SDLP should know better than to try to challenge them on this ground. Clausewitz wrote almost two centuries ago that in war the strategy of one side largely determines the strategy of another. The SDLP is allowing SF to determine its own political strategy, on a battlefield of SF’s choosing. Thus statements from journalists of an SDLP background, such as Brian Feeney, complaining about “stickies” in the Irish senate, or making vituperative and derogatory comments about unionist politics and politicians is something that the Party should distance itself from.

So on what policy issues can the SDLP come into its own? One clue lies in the Party name. It is only by drawing SF onto the grounds of moderate social democracy, and modern economic theory and reality can the SDLP make any real headway. Barring any unforeseen developments, and despite the dire predictions of the doom-mongers, the Irish economy looks set not only to grow, but to flourish well into the twenty-first century. This will require recruitment of ever greater numbers of skilled and educated workers, many of whom will inevitably come from the north, something which should sustain the SDLP argument in favour of strengthening transport and business links between the two jurisdictions, engendering a benign and constructive form of Irish unity, one which does not threaten the rights of anyone.

It is perfectly possible in a European context for one economy to complement another: just observe the Scandinavian situation, where thousands of Swedish professionals and skilled workers cross the border into oil-rich Norway every week to take advantage of the higher wages there, and return home in the evening or at weekends. The national identities and political affiliations of neither Norwegians nor Swedes are compromised in any way. No sensible unionist should feel frightened by these potential changes (in fact they should be welcomed), and the SDLP will have the task of putting any misunderstandings to rest. It is likely that a large proportion of these workers will opt to continue living in the north, a potentially beneficial development for us. With deft political management, NI can also grow greatly in affluence, mainly by using the example of the RoI as a blueprint, making it an attractive venue for inward investment. This can be achieved even with the present high rate of corporation tax. It is heartening that Unionists such as Nigel Dodds and Jeffrey Donaldson have recognised the need for sustained economic growth and investment and a strengthening of economic links with the south. These are developments that the SDLP should be just as anxious to surmount as the DUP.
What the SDLP greatly requires at the moment is not another Hume, but an articulate, intellectual bruiser on economic policy in the Brian Cowen or Gordon Brown mould, and a political strategist on the level of Tony Blair or Bertie Ahern, who can formulate a real programme for government. The nationalist and unionist populations must be given a simple and direct message from their political leaders: “enrich yourselves, enjoy it, and for God’s sake get to know and respect one another!” If such an outcome is to materialise, the SDLP leadership has to convey to certain sections of the nationalist population in the north the message that their salvation is not necessarily to be found on the inside of a community day care centre, or in the rhetoric of professional “community activists”, and that group rights must be matched with individual endeavour. The age of the technocrat is dawning in NI, and this will require SDLP leaders and activists to be able to talk knowledgeably on matters as diverse as inflation levels, global economic cycles, world commodity prices, and global markets. It will also mean the Party having to bang the drum loudly and confidently on behalf of both north and south in international trade fairs. This, one suspects, is a game in which they can easily surpass SF.
Again importing a Scandinavian analogy into the picture, a thriving free market must be matched, as in Norway, Sweden, and Finland, with a first rate public sector, and a firm commitment to law and order. This last area is certainly one in which the SDLP has a head start over SF, since the Party courageously signed up to the Policing settlement long before Republicans. Northern Ireland society appears at present to be going through a spate of extreme lawlessness in certain areas, with fatal stabbings, robberies, and drug dealing proliferating. If it is to be an attractive venue for tourists and investors alike, civic order is a matter of grave concern.
A final and crucial battlefield on which the SDLP must confront SF is in the emotionally charged area of Irish history. In a recent interview with the Guardian, Gerry Adams seemed to suggest that the aim of the 25 year IRA campaign was to achieve a “unity among the peoples of Ireland”, and that all the deaths caused by that organization were really aimed at securing “rights” for the nationalist people in the north. Put bluntly, this is no more than eyewash, and SF should not be allowed to wriggle off the hook of its own past and thereby escape the harsh judgment of history. Neither should the SDLP stand by and indulge them in this disingenuous exercise. The IRA campaign was, in fact, about securing a “utopian” 32 county Irish Socialist republic, possibly in the mould of a Celtic Cuba, and what SF has settled for is very much less than this. The cold reality is that the troubles, and the IRA role in these, set back considerably the prospect of any form of unity among the peoples of Ireland, turned Northern Ireland’s economy into a basket-case, and caused untold human suffering.

Merger with Fianna Fáil?
At the moment there is much fevered speculation that the SDLP is set to merge with Fianna Fail in an all-Ireland Party. Such a development seems to be positively welcomed by the SDLP itself, is being played down by FF, and has caused consternation among normally level-headed figures such as Sir Reg Empey of the UUP, who believes that it would “throw a hand grenade” into the political settlement in the north.
It is important to keep a sense of proportion about the present discussions between the SDLP and FF. On a practical level they are exactly that - discussions, which may eventually develop into negotiations, but they will be conducted over a period of about a decade, and no-one can be certain in any way what the eventual outcome. This much was admitted by Fianna Fail’s Eamon O’Cuiv on RTE’s Questions and Answers of September 24.
It is unlikely that a wily and sophisticated political operator like Bertie Ahern will wish his party to become directly involved in the unfamiliar and tricky territory of northern electoral politics in the future, and it is more probable that some form loose and flexible compact will emerge between the two parties. Certainly the SDLP can learn a much from FF party management and organization, and an agreement between them will ensure that SDLP electioneers can operate under the protection of a more powerful political institution, which should prevent any potential intimidation at election time by republican supporters.

So why has FF really initiated these discussions with the SDLP, if not to stand its own candidates for election in the north? The answer to this question is threefold. First, and most obviously, FF wishes to challenge SF’s boasts about being the only credible all-Ireland party and seeks to provide northern nationalists with an alternative. Secondly, enhanced relations with the SDLP will enable FF to acquire a more direct role in the daily management and evolution of the NI constitutional settlement. Thirdly, and perhaps most significantly, by stiffening the SDLP’s fighting resolve, SF will be forced to concentrate its efforts in the arena of Northern Ireland, reducing further their designs on power in the south. SF can scarcely complain about these developments: after all, wasn’t it them who have been advocating for years political structures and organizations which encompass all of Ireland? SF themselves have been ominously silent about the discussions between Fianna Fail and the SDLP, suggesting that they are uneasily aware of where they may lead.
Where will this leave SF in the Republic? Outclassed, outgunned, and outmanoeuvred, as they usually are when they come up against Ahern and FF.

Conclusion
This article began with a quote from Heraclitus which is perhaps applicable to the political situation here in the north: politics is in a state of great flux. There is no reason why the SDLP should not be able to capitalise on this. The Party is not short of talent or intellectual ability, and its leader, Mark Durkan, is an engaging and likeable personality. The fact that the Party is not abstentionist, and can make its voice heard on the floor of House of Commons and on Parliamentary Committees should also be seen as an advantage. Can any political party mutate into another form? Of course it can. The British Labour Party in its present incarnation is a very different animal than the Labour Party of Keir Hardie in 1900. It is unlikely that Eamonn de Valera would recognise the Fianna Fail of today. What gives the need for action added urgency for the SDLP is that quite soon Gordon Brown will wish to win a personal mandate for Labour policies and call a general election. The SDLP must be able to meet this challenge. The question is, will they?

Dr Phil Larkin

Greenspan on Iraqi oil

2007-09-25T22:30:00.000+01:00

So former chairman of the US Federal Reserve Alan Greenspan has come clean in his memoirs about the real reason for his country's invasion of Iraq:

"I am saddened that it is politically inconvenient to acknowledge what everyone knows: the Iraq war is largely about oil."

Is this really so? The defaecatory habits of ursine creatures in arboreal zones springs to mind.

Late September
At this time of year I'm always reminded of that line from the Rod Stewart song "Maggie May":
"Wake up Maggie I've got something to say to you
It's late September and I really should be back at school"
The song seems to be about an affair between a schoolboy and a middle-aged woman similar to that in the film "The Graduate" between Anne Bancroft's Mrs Robinson and Dustin Hoffman's Benjamin. The famous soundtrack to the film by Simon and Garfunkel starts with the song "The Sound of Silence" which begins with the line "Hello Darkness my old friend". Appropriate for the onset of autumn.

Quote of the Week
"I've never been attracted to politics because it's about lying. Acting is the opposite: you pretend to be someone else, but you are doing it to reveal the truth about something or someone".

Actor Morgan Freeman interviewed in the Sunday Times

Michael Palin’s New Europe

2007-09-18T21:29:00.000+01:00

Watching the first instalment of Michael Palin’s New Europe on BBC1 brought back memories of last summer for me. The palm-lined seafront of Split and the Roman colonnades of Diocletian’s palace, the minarets of the Sarajevo skyline and the reconstructed bridge at Mostar all conjured up images of my own Balkan adventure. The series started off promisingly with Palin perched on top of a mountain in Slovenia’s Julian Alps looking towards the horizon, symbolising the beginning of his journey into a transformed continent.
It was the usual Palin fare, the unique cocktail of travel documentary and quirky humour of the mild-mannered Englishman abroad adopting the “when in Rome” attitude by attempting to blend in with the natives and meeting all kinds of colourful characters along the way.
One of the more appealing aspects of Palin’s travels is that he’s never been afraid to try out new experiences, delve into local politics or venture off the beaten track.
In his Sahara series Palin stayed at a refugee camp inhabited by the stateless Saharawi people of the former Spanish colonies of the Western Sahara whose self-proclaimed people’s democratic republic in defiance of the Moroccan and Mauritanian authorities has never been recognised by the UN.
In Bosnia images of a bitter and bloody war are still fresh in people’s memories. Shots of Palin walking the lively streets of present day Sarajevo interspersed with film footage of civilians running for cover in those same streets amid constant gunfire and explosions during the three-year long siege of the city, “the longest siege in modern European history” just over a decade ago was highly effective. Similarly, a film of the Old Bridge in Mostar being blown up in 1993 juxtaposed with scenes of local divers jumping into the river from the rebuilt bridge, now a UNESCO World Heritage site and tourists milling around in the sunshine. The glaring contrast between then and now was quite poignant.

We in the West to our shame have effectively become immune to news pictures of conflict and civil unrest in distant African or Asian countries, a regular feature of our news bulletins for decades, whether in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Darfur, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Iraq, Vietnam or Sri Lanka.

What was particularly disturbing about the conflict in the former Yugoslavia was that such events could occur on our doorstep, in the so-called “civilised world” at the end of the 20th century. Scenes of half-starved prisoners of war behind barbed wire, and excavations of mass graves among other horrific sights were an almost daily feature of TV news headlines throughout the early 1990s, evoking memories of another European war fought 50 years earlier. The resilience of the people of Sarajevo cannot be understated.
Palin spoke to survivors of the Bosnia, including one man leading a landmine clearance operation in the countryside surrounding Sarajevo, who had planted many of the mines himself, mines which will take an estimated 70 years to clear.

The trouble with such travel documentaries is that they barely scratch the surface. Cramming Slovenia, Bosnia, Croatia, Serbia and Albania into an hour-long programme doesn’t do justice to the experience - although the book does go imto considerably more detail. Hours of film footage must have been pared down in post production and this was surely a frustrating task for the editors.

So what purpose does all this serve? What does travel actually achieve? Palin provides his personal view in his own inimitable style:

“I try not to go out with too many prejudices or come back with too many opinions. I'm frequently approached by people who want to know how travel has changed me and what great insights I might have had on dusty roads and in blazing sunsets. Now I no longer even try to make up an answer. Any journey away from the room you're sitting in will increase the potential for coming upon the unexpected and occasionally wonderful, but that's not to equate travel with ultimate enlightenment or universal solutions, any more than breathing will ensure you become president of the US. It helps, but that's about all. I've learned that what I like about travel is that it doesn't sort everything out. Actually, it doesn't sort anything out. Where there was certainty, it sows uncertainty, where there is conviction, it sows doubt, where there is comfort, it sows heat rash. It's just that being in unfamiliar surroundings watching unfamiliar activity is something I find, on the whole, deeply refreshing.”

How very true.

Has McLaren lost the winning Formula (1)?

2007-09-14T18:16:00.001+01:00

I have no interest whatsoever in that glorified form of joyriding known as Formula 1 racing. However, before anyone accuses me of “race-ism” here, in my defence I will state that if I want to see madmen in souped-up sports cars racing each other up and down I can look out the window on to my road any Saturday night. To be honest though, I am a bit of sports bigot. There are certain sports I enjoy and follow quite closely - GAA, soccer and cycling in particular (along with a passing interest in rugby during the Six Nations and World Cup), while there are others I simply hate with a passion - especially cricket, golf, darts and American football.

Anyway what prompted this post was the news that the McLaren Formula 1 team have been fined a record £50 million for (allegedly) having leaked technical data from the rival Ferrari team. As noted in the media, this fine is a mere drop in the ocean for McLaren, but what will matter is not the financial penalty, but the damage to the team’s reputation. So one set of jumped-up boy racers nicks the engine design specs (or whatever) off another set of jumped-up boy racers and has to shell out a week’s pocket money for the privilege - so what? Is this really headline-grabbing news? It’s a bit like “cyclist tests positive for doping” or “Pete Doherty arrested” or “Taoiseach faces tribunal over financial dealings” or even “Madonna does something controversial to get more publicity and inflate her already close-to-bursting-point ego” - predictable and boring. But hey, isn’t this sort of thing what makes the world go round, not to mention sells papers?

A whiter shade of Palin

2007-09-13T20:54:00.000+01:00

Prague, Czech Republic (Picture by Aiden Fitzsimons)

Proving that he’s come a long way since his days as an unscrupulous pet shop owner flogging dead parrots to unsuspecting customers, Michael Palin, the Monty Python veteran turned jolly globetrotter goes east to savour the delights of Oriental and Central Europe for his latest BBC TV series.

Back in 1989 as a young TV reviewer for the Ulster Herald I reviewed one of Palin’s earliest forays into TV travel Around the World in 80 Days in which he traversed the globe without the luxury of flight via Africa, Asia and America to get back to London within the specified time limit, but spent only a brief period of time in Europe. His latest adventure in which he roams from Estonia to Turkey and almost every country in between promises to be fascinating insight into an area which is on our doorstep, yet which many of us in the West know so little about.

Having travelled a bit in this part of the world and developed something of a fascination for the vast and varied region which once lay behind an impenetrable “iron curtain”, the TV series will naturally be of interest to me. Palin has a thought-provoking article in The Guardian about how the series came about and his perceptions were shaped by his experiences in the “New Europe”. After my own travels in the former Yugoslavia last year this extract struck a chord with me:

"The past intruded on almost every conversation we had and in every town we filmed. Not the quaint past of cobbled streets and church spires (though there was plenty of that), but the raw and shocking past of the 20th century. We in the West have fought and suffered through two world wars, but in eastern Europe the misery was prolonged and relentless. The first of our journeys, which took us down through the former Yugoslavia, was a reminder of how recently Europeans were fighting each other. As late as 1999, our boys were bombing Belgrade. In Sarajevo we talked to people in streets that were death traps only 13 years ago. The eloquent and painstaking leader of a Bosnian mine-clearance team was the same man who had planted some of the mines in the first place."

Watch this space for further coverage and commentary.

Brussels sprouts a leak? (Or are they just taking the piss?)

2007-09-10T21:08:00.000+01:00

Have the rumours of Belgium’s imminent demise been greatly exaggerated? If the reports are to believed the country is in political turmoil, with still no government three months after the elections and the very strong possibility of partition. A “velvet divorce” akin to the break-up of Czechoslovakia may be on the cards as the rival French and Flemish speaking regions gradually assert their differences. In the event of such a scenario the bureaucratic melting pot of Brussels would effectively become an independent enclave along the lines of Washington DC.

Furthermore it begs the question after almost two centuries of existence - what has the nation often labelled Europe’s most boring country contributed to the world? Apart from the world’s finest beer and chocolate of course. And lace and the odd Eurovision winner. With its flat monotonous landscapes and lack of any distinct national characteristics this bastardized low-lying Franco-Dutch-Germanic hybrid Frankenstein country has naturally come in for much stick. I remember a joke from some radio comedy show presented by a bunch of smug middle-class Oxford/Cambridge- educated comedians which went along the lines of - “an area of tropical rainforest the size of Belgium is burned every year. What a waste - why not just burn down Belgium instead?” Belgium is an easy target for such (I hesitate to use the word “satire”) ridicule, but these were the very same people who would look down on the end-of-the-pier/working men’s club-type comedians for being racist. Kettles and pots.

Having spent a year in Belgium at the University of Louvain-la-Neuve during my student days as part of a pan-European university exchange scheme, I can confirm that it is not the most exciting country in the world, nor are its citizens particularly interesting. This is not to say the place is not worth a visit - it can hold its own among the nations of Europe. Paris has its Eiffel Tower, Rome has its Coliseum, Berlin has its Brandenburg Gate…and Brussels has a statue of a young boy urinating in the street.

The other well-known joke was name five famous Belgians - ok, here goes - Hergé, creator of the well-loved cartoon character Tintin, cycling legend Eddy Mercx, five times winner of the Tour de France, Rubens the Flemish artist, King Leopold one-time colonial ruler of the Belgian empire in Africa - and fifthly the country’s most celebrated female icon, the great brewer Stella Artois.
But the question still remains - if Belgium really is Europe’s dullest country, where does that leave Luxembourg?

Whatever happened to the Zeroes?

2007-09-05T20:56:00.000+01:00

The above heading refers of course to the decade we're currently living through which so far has been true to the old Chinese proverb "may you live in interesting times". The pun is on a song by the 1970s pseudo-punk band The Stranglers who by the sounds of things were also living in interesting times back then. The reason this particular ensemble was on my mind was because I acquired a CD of their best-known works which came free with a Sunday paper. I often find myself buying papers I would never normally read let alone buy simply to obtain the complementary CD or DVD which seems to be the trend these days. This particular publication was a salacious tabloid with plenty of scandal and gossip, but very little in the way of news. This mattered little to me as I could scan through it in 5 minutes then dispose of it (in an environmentally eco-friendly way of course - although having said that huge swathes of forest could be saved from the axe in the first place if such rancorous periodicals ceased publication altogether, but that's a discussion for another day) and subsequently enjoy the CD for years afterwards.

It seems that The Stranglers were ahead of their time as demonstrated by one of their greatest hits. Back then when the current Prime Minister of the UK was a mere long-haired student activist protesting against Apartheid and showing solidarity with disgruntled miners they predicted a barrel of laughs under his prime ministerial tenure - "Never a frown with Gordon Brown" as the chorus goes.

The zeitgeist continues into the next song on the collection which seems to be addressing Amy W(h)inehouse - "Strange little girl where are you going?"

Interesting times indeed.

Rugby World Cup coming soon to France (or words to that effect)

2007-09-04T18:50:00.000+01:00

Although I'm not a big rugby fan I'm looking forward tot he forthcoming World Cup as any event which brings together a set of disparate nations is always interesting. It's always good to see feats of David and Goliath style giant-killing when the minor teams are pitted against the big boys - except if it's your own team on the receiving end. But with New Zealand in the same group as newcomers Portugal I don't think this will happen somehow.

The final of the last tournament in 2003 when England's Johnny Wilkinson entered into legend by scoring a last minute drop goal to beath Australia was worth watching just to see the sour look on Aussie PM John Howard's face when he was handing out the medals.

Today's Times reports that Tonga player Epi Taoine has changed hs name by deed poll to Paddy Power as part of a sponsorship deal with the Irish bookies. I wonder what the odds on him changing it back after the World Cup are. Furthermore, will Paddy Power be taking bets on it?

Island-hopping

2007-08-11T22:13:00.000+01:00

I'm back in the saddle after a 2-week break in the old country with my better half, sampling the cultural, geographical, ornithological, culinary and alcoholic delights of Ireland. So now I've seen the delights of Rosslare, Wexford, Kilmore Quay, Enniscorthy (taking in the 1798 museum and Vinegar Hill - which I would strongly recommend), Bunclody and the Blackstairs Mountains, New Ross, Carrick-on-Suir (free guided tours of Ormond Castle available and a square in the town named after its most celebrated citizen Sean Kelly, the greatest cyclist never to win the Tour de France - I won't mention this year's farcial event), the Rock of Cashel and northwards to Glendalough with its round tower and stunning lake and mountain scenery, Newgrange in all its Megalitihic glory (didn't have time to visit the nearby Battle of the Boyne site, but hopefully next time) , then Omagh (thanks to Mum and Dad for putting up with us), Plumbridge, Coleraine (thanks to DrJW for the plush riverside accomodation), Portrush and a tour of the Antrim coast encompassing the Giant's Causeway, Ballycastle, Rathlin Island (where gannets, guillemots, puffins and eider ducks abound) and White Park Bay, but not, thanks to my companion's fear of heights, the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge.

The final leg of the tour took in Belfast - thanks to the Arm's ocasional guest writer Phil for his hospitality. The two-piece band playing in the John Hewitt performed an excellent version of Copperhead Road, plus as far as I can remember a few Bob Dylan numbers. And what a relief it was to have the place smoke-free! The city guided bus tour was interesting. I didn't know that Stormont during the War was covered in manure to make it invisible to the German bombers - nowadays you'll just find it inside the building coming from the mouths of the assembly members.

So now it's back to the grindstone. The Pembroke to Rosslare ferry was even a pleasant experience.

THE EFFECTS “UP NORTH” OF THE IRISH ELECTION

2007-07-20T19:59:00.000+01:00

Our guest contributor, Phil makes a welcome return to "the Arm". This time our man in Belfast analyses the effects of May's Irish elections and what the consequences will be up North:
CW

The performance of Sinn Féin in the Irish general election, and the reasons for their travails in that contest in May have been documented and analysed by Déaglan de Breadún in the previous edition of Fortnight. However, one angle which was not explored by that author was the potential effects which the results of the election would have on the political landscape of Northern Ireland. It is the contention of this author that the contest has profound ramifications for future political developments in the North, which is why proceedings were followed with some trepidation by the Unionist community up here.

It is no exaggeration to describe Sinn Féin’s performance in May’s elections as lamentable, losing one of their Dublin seats and coming perilously close to losing another, with Aonghus O’Snódaigh only being returned to his Dublin South Central constituency on the last count. Similarly, Martin Ferris, who topped the poll in his Kerry constituency in the 2002 election, came bottom of the poll in May. One drop of comfort which some party leaders cling to is that Sinn Féin’s share of the vote increased from 2002, but this is largely a result of the decision to field candidates in practically all electoral constituencies. De Breadun explored the possibility that, amongst other factors, voters were deterred from voting Sinn Féin because of the party’s tergiversations over proposed increases in Irish corporation tax, Gerry Adams’ less than convincing performance in the head-to-head debate among the smaller party leaders (particularly against Michael McDowell, then Progressive Democrat Minister for Justice in the coalition Government), and the Party’s excessive focus on Northern issues and emphasis on “rights” over more pertinent concerns to the Southern electorate such as continued economic growth, and reform to stamp duty on house purchases. Yet these reasons only describe facets of two large fundamental realities which were revealed in the recent Irish election.

The first is that the political establishment and the electorate in the South, despite perennial rhetoric to the contrary, are essentially of a partitionist mindset. Comments by leading politicians during the election campaign demonstrated that the body politic in the Republic is ill-disposed to welcome Sinn Féin into the inner sanctum of political power as potential kingmakers, seeing little reason to reward them for the strides in economic growth which have taken place over the last decade, and refusing them any surfeit of credit for the currently stabilizing political settlement in Northern Ireland. No enthusiasm whatever has been shown by Irish Governments for allowing Sinn Féin MLAs speaking rights in the Dáil.

The second reality is that social and economic changes in the Republic over recent decades have rendered largely obsolete the political programme of Sinn Féin in that jurisdiction, a programme which, in essence, advocates little more than a vague version of a Soviet command economy and increased state intervention in the lives and livelihoods of Irish citizens, garnished with increasingly hollow rhetoric on rights and equality. Indeed, sections of the Southern media and political establishment hammered home the paradox of Sinn Féin calling for higher corporation tax in the Republic, yet simultaneously lobbying for reduction of this tax in Northern Ireland. While it would be unwise to write off the prospects of the Party in future electoral contests, there appear to be few issues on the political horizon in the South on which Sinn Féin cannot be outflanked by one of the more established parties, with Fianna Fáil recently demonstrating the strength and tenacity of their party organization at ground level in the constituencies.

The uncomfortable reality for the largely Northern leadership of Sinn Féin is that despite their electoral boasts about being the only “all-Ireland” party, and the expectation that they could capitalize on the newly created political stability in the North, their designs on political decision making in the South have amounted to very little, and this does not look set to change in the foreseeable future.
So how will this effect the Northern Ireland political situation? At first glance it would appear that the answer to this is “not very much.” Sinn Féin still remains in a powerful position in the North, being the largest nationalist party, and controlling key positions in the devolved executive, including the office of Deputy First Minister, currently held by Martin McGuinness, and the important portfolios of Education, Health, and Regional Development. Over recent days Sinn Féin Ministers demonstrated accomplished performances during the meetings of the British-Irish Council and the North-South Ministerial Council, showing a willingness to move forward in harness with the DUP and achieve real progress here in the North.

However, therein lies the rub for Sinn Fein as regards their long held ambitions for a united Ireland. The longer they continue to be associated with governance in the North, and working together with the major Unionist parties, the more the perception will be created among both electorates on the Island that the true home of the Party, and the real outlet of its ambitions is in Northern Ireland, becoming little more than another Northern constitutional nationalist party. This will undoubtedly reinforce the already strong impression of the Southern electorate that Sinn Féin really has no place in government in the Republic, something which, I suspect, politicians from the more established parties in the South will not be shy about pointing out. Two elections from now, assuming that they will be five years apart, the generation of Adams and McGuinness will be aging, with both of these leaders not far off 70. Is it likely that they will be able to surmount the continuing dynamism of the young bloods of Fianna Fail or Fine Gael?

Similarly, as Northern Ireland inches forward into stability, and even prosperity, over the next decade, with individuals and families experiencing ever higher standards of living and rising property prices fuelled by gradual inward investment, how pertinent will the emphasis on rights and equality be to an electorate, even nationalist, which, like that in the South, will have concerns and aspirations more pressing than a united Ireland and discrimination? While sectarianism is a remarkably persistent spectre here in the North, and issues arising out of the Troubles such as restorative justice, inter-communal strife, and reconciliation are still highly relevant, it is unlikely that a younger generation of the nationalist electorate, with only hazy memories of the troubles (or none at all) and the relatively unequal position of their community will have their emotions exercised to any great extent by memories of past grievances. In fact, it is probable that a more important worry for the increasingly wealthy and educated or skilled electors will be how to meet the payments on the mortgage and cars, even with both partners working, and still manage to escape to Spain or Portugal during the summer with the children for a fortnight. What will rhetoric on rights and equality mean to people in this situation? With many of the outside pressures on the nationalists having been removed, nothing dissolves the bonds of community solidarity more than increasing prosperity and the absence of adversity, and this is increasingly the case even in the Republican heartlands of West Belfast and South Armagh.

So what can Sinn Féin do to keep its central political aim of a united Ireland on track, and maintain or enhance its electoral potential in both parts of Ireland? It is a difficult question to answer, but the writer Dean Godson has suggested that Sinn Féin will attempt to find an issue on which to provoke the Unionist community into an angry reaction, which will thereby enable republicans to galvanize nationalist opinion on both sides of the border, much as the Drumcree situation did over a decade ago. Yet not only is it difficult to imagine what possible bone of contention could possibly arise, but both Sinn Féin and the Unionists would be ill-advised to embark on such a course of provocation and reaction. Both the Irish Government and the electorate in the Republic appear proud of the peacemaking deals which they have helped achieve in the North, hence the plaudits which Bertie Ahern gained before the election with his meetings with Ian Paisley at the Boyne battle site and his speech to the Houses of Parliament. Any move on the part of Sinn Féin or republicans to disturb the still delicate balance of stability up here would enrage the political establishment in the South, and provide established parties with a further arsenal of ammunition with which to discredit Sinn Féin in future Irish elections. Similarly, even if such a contentious issue does arise, or is manufactured, the unionist establishment would be wise not to rise to any provocation, since this may nullify the currently strong and increasingly productive relationship which unionist parties, even the DUP, have established with the Irish Government in recent years.

Sinn Féin, if it is to retain its position as the leading nationalist party in the north (quite apart from preventing its complete political annihilation in the South) will have to respond and adapt to the new social and economic realities which will face it with greater urgency over the next decade. Whether they are capable of pulling this off, or whether they will be met with the further challenge of a reinvigorated SDLP in the future are currently matters of conjecture.

Social Realist Cinema: Of Shane Meadows and Pawel Pawlikowski

2007-07-16T21:27:00.000+01:00

I spent Friday the 13th of this month (the date was purely coincidental!) in Oxford at a film conference "The Realist Impulse", where I gave a presentation on the films of Shane "This is England/TwentyFourSeven/Dead Man's Shoes/A Room for Romeo Brass" Meadows.

Among the delegates was film-maker Pawel Pawlikowski, director of two recent British flicks of note, The Last Resort and My Summer of Love, both coincidentally starring Paddy Considine, a long-time associate of the aforementioned Mr Meadows. A colourful and highly energetic character by all accounts, Pawel made some priceless contributions to the discussions and played some excerpts from his forthcoming film The Restraint of Beasts, based on the award-winning novel by Magnus Mills.

Let it lie

2007-07-12T18:58:00.000+01:00

“You wouldn’t let it lie!” was a catchphrase made famous in the 1990s by the comic duo Reeves and Mortimer. I heard a rap on the radio this morning which used a sample from Bach’s Air on the G-string as background to the awful lyrics. The Bach tune is a classic composition which found fame in the 1980s as the chilled out theme tune to the Hamlet cigar ads on TV. You don’t see cigar ads on TV any more, which is probably a good thing, but what irritates me is that contemporary manufactured music constantly ruins classic tunes by using them as samples. The cinematic industry is committing a similar felony by making totally unnecessary remakes of classic films. What was the point of the recent remakes of The Wicker Man or Alfie? Two gems of cinema which were a product of their time and starring actors of the day in their element. I haven’t seen either of the remade versions, nor do I intend to. For the sake of future generations who want to appreciate good cinema and music this defilement by cashing in on the success of the original has got to stop. Here endeth my rant for the day.

The one that got away
I was alerted to this quite amazing clip on YouTube recently. Although it’s quite long at 8 minutes, it’s worth watching in its entirety. It must be a one in a million event, a bizarre chain of events – Although apparently shot by an amateur, it must be every wildlife film-maker’s dream.

2007-07-07T20:46:00.000+01:00

Carbon Footprints and carbon fibre

Live Earth - Defeating the very purpose
First there was Live Aid, then Live 8. Today it was Live Earth, a rock concert to raise awareness of climate change by encouraging people to contribute further to global warming by watching it on their televisions and listening to it on their radios - as well as burning up all those kilowatts and volts of energy by staging the event in the first place. Publicity-mad attention seekers like Madonna will readily jump on any bandwagon reagardless of the cause as long as it guarantees maximum exposure. Even Geldof was critical of Live Earth's motives. And think of all the noise pollution it will cause. A bit like doing a sponsored pub crawl to raise money for Alcoholics Anonymous.

The Tour de London
But instead of watching Live Earth I set a green example by taking public transport into Central London and watching that environmentally friendly sport of cycling. Yes, it was the long awaited prologue to the Tour de France which came to London for the very first time, as I mentioned back in January 2006 (Tour de France goes Cockney). It was refeshing to see the streets free of traffic and the assembled crowds cheering on flashes of titanium, carbon fibre and multicoloured lycra as the time triallists speeded past the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye and Hyde Park. You had to be there to take in the atmosphere, but to be honest the best views were on the big screens in Trafalgar Square and Hyde Park where you could actually follow the progress of different riders and hear the statistics via the dulcet tones of veteran Tour commentator Phil Liggett, instead of just getting a brief glimpse over the heads of spectators lined along the barriers of a helmet being pursued by a motorbike.

An exciting three weeks lies ahead, but not without the shadow of doping hanging over the sport. It will take time to for cycling to shake off its tarnished image, but the thrills of agonising climbs up Alpine mountain passes, bunched masses of coloured jerseys wheeling past fields of sunflowers, the painted graffiti on roads and the finale of the Champs Elysee will go on.

The Deluge Subsides?

2007-07-04T19:21:00.000+01:00

"And it's just another bloody rainy day..."
The Pogues, White City

Those of you old enough to remember the long wet summer of 1985 will be experiencing a sense of deja-vu at the moment. After a washed out June with all the floods this year, the first few days of July haven't been much better. I was even caught in a heavy shower of hail yesterday while driving home. Not very summery weather.
1984, the year before that wet summer of '85 was notably Orwell's year of "big brother". Deja-fucking-vu indeed.

The great working mens club in the sky

2007-06-18T23:08:00.000+01:00

So Bernard Manning the king of political incorrectness, the ultimate "alternative" comedian has finally snuffed it. Say what you like about him - yes his jokes were racist, sexist, misogynistic and many other things, but the man was funny.

A different perspective on Prague

2007-06-14T20:58:00.000+01:00

The Dreaming Arm is pleased to announce its third ever guest writer. Phil lives in Belfast and coincidentally (or not as the case may be) was also in Prague at the same time as the present author. Phil takes a more aesthetic look at the city, reflecting on an experience he's unlikely to forget (despite the absinthe).

So czech it out...
CW

An enchanting song in one of the Irish operas is entitled "I dreamed I dwelled in marble halls." In my case, however, during four days in Prague, I felt that I came close to living out that dream. Some cities in the world so surpass all the normal boundaries of aesthetic beauty that they require some description. Prague is one such city. This was my second visit, and I am determined to return again. This second visit, made with Ciaran, John, and Aiden, has reinforced my belief that even though the Austro-Hungarian empire may not have been the most powerful that the world has ever seen, it certainly possessed the finest cities in Europe, beating even the splendours of Paris, Berlin, and Madrid. Prague, is the jewel in the crown of the old Austro-Hungarian empire, a firmly held opinion of mine that has not been dented by my latest visit.

It was interesting to return after an interval of some years to see whether time has wrought any changes to the city. I am happy to aver that if there have been any changes, they are for the better, with Prague, as the capital of the Czech Republic the very epitome of a thriving, cosmopolitan, wealthy central European city, something which is reflected in the vast number of quality cars, and the clothing fashions sported by the local population. Some may say that the city has become over touristised - I do not agree - Prague is an experience that should be shared with the world. Although we saw old Soviet style cardboard box apartments on the outskirts of the city centre from our vantage point of the Observatory (offering great views over the city), it is clear that Soviet domination never managed to destroy the essential soul of Prague, or that the sophisticated and intelligent Czechs never forgot how to manage a wealthy civic society.

It is no exaggeration to say that most of our four days (or three and a half days, to be pedantic) were taken up simply wandering around the Old Town Square and the Old Town gawping in wonder at the sheer magnificence of the architecture, which ranged from Gothic Cathedrals to the baroque castle at the epicentre of the Old Town. Owing to the visit of President Bush on the 4th and 5th of this month, the castle and the nearby art gallery were, somewhat disappointingly, closed to the public. Still, it provides us with a good excuse to return again, and, it could be that the visit of George Bush will be of benefit to the Czech Republic if the US decides to place one of the new missile defence warning systems in that country. I believe firmly that never again should the Czechs (or Slovaks, Poles, Hungarians, Ukranians and Bulgarians, for that matter) be at the mercy of the much greater military power and possible imperialist aspirations of a belligerent Russia, no matter how much Vladimir Putin may protest about the creation of a missile defence shield in Europe. One sad moment for me came when I saw the statue of Edvard Benes, last democratically elected President of pre-Soviet Czechoslovakia, who after seeing his country overrun by the NAZIs, was to die a lonely figure in exile due to the totalitarian designs that Stalin and the communists had on Czechoslovakia in the aftermath of World War II. It should perhaps serve as a lesson against being complacent about the democratic freedoms enjoyed by ourselves in the West and now happily shared by the Czechs themselves.

Aiden, a photo junkie, literally found new wonders around each corner to feed his addiction, some of which have hopefully found their way onto the blog by now. It is easy to see the secret of Czech success in Prague - top quality education in celestial surroundings, and cultural experiences readily available to all. One cannot walk 100 feet during the day in the city centre without someone planting a flyer in your hand advertising some classical concert in the majestic opera houses or cathedrals in the city. One thing which differentiates the Czechs from the more folksy Poles, however, is their attitude to religion, which borders on the sceptical - evidenced by the fact that it is very difficult to actually gain access to the interiorof a church or cathedral in Prague - a great pity.

Okay, so we didn't reside in a baroque marble palace during our visit there, but our hostel did provide a very good substitute - comfortable (if basic) rooms and a first rate continental breakfast for the equivalent of around £10 per night. I had stayed there on my first trip to Prague three years ago. It also had the merit of being within ten minutes walking distance from the Old Town Square. It also contained two good bars, a pizza/pasta restaurant, and a bowling alley. There is no need to frequent five star hotels or expensive restaurants to find delicious Czech food - just have a look at the photo of the meal which we bought in a Prague pub just off the city centre at a very reasonable price.
Czech service is efficient and scrupulously polite.

To those reading this blog who have not yet visited Prague, I would ask "what are you waiting for!?" The next time I return, I would like to see more of the rest of the Czech Republic as well.

Phil

Pictures by Aiden Fitzsimons

Scandal in Bohemia

2007-06-13T22:31:00.000+01:00

Wenceslas Square

Back in the '80s Lloyd Cole (no relation to Nat King as far as I know, but possibly related to comedian Jimmy Carr?) allegedly spent a lost weekend in Amsterdam. This was before the advent of cheap "no frills" airlines and the fall of the Iron Curtain leading to the return of democracy and freedom across Central and Eastern Europe. Just over a week ago I had something of an extended lost weekend in Prague with a group of reprobates known only as John, Aiden and Phil. The "sickest joke" was not the "price of the medicine" as Mr Cole succinctly put it, but the strength of the Absinthe. To the uninitiated this is a vile green liquid with a 70% alcohol content which according to anecdotal evidence causes you to see hallicinations of green monsters - and I'm not talking about Fianna Fail's coalition partners in government here.

We didn't get to visit the famous Prague Castle as it was closed due to the visit of a certain GW Bush. He couldn't have picked a worse time to visit - he should have known were coming. There's a pub in one of the narrow winding streets of the old town whose walls are strewn with graffiti scrawled by legions of stag parties and backpackers. The proprieters actually encourage this, but you have to pay to write on the walls. At every table in this establishment there are complementary giant pretzels hanging from stands. Somehow I don't think this place was on Mr President's itinerary.

Pictures by Aiden Fitzsimons

Displaced Islanders granted right to return home

2007-05-29T21:41:00.000+01:00

Just over a year ago (1 year and 15 days to be precise!) I posted a piece on the Chagos Islanders and their successsful legal victory. In a further development announced last week, it looks like they've finally been granted their 40-year wish . Better late than never for an emotional homecoming.

Radio Active Airwaves

2007-05-29T21:33:00.000+01:00

In my last job I was surrounded by mindless zombies in a basement with no natural light and no interesting conversation. I’m now in another basement (but this time with a window!) in an office environment where the radio is on constantly. I'm now in more convivial company, still getting used to having the radio on while I'm trying to work. The general rule is Kiss FM in the morning and X FM in the afternoons. Neither radio station is to my liking, bit I tolerate it. In any case I'm not in the office all the time. Kiss FM (bloody awful rap/hip-hop/R&B dirges - or what gets called "Rhythm & Blues" these days, but is a far cry from the likes of John Lee Hooker, BB King, Howling Wolf, etc) and X FM (contemporary rock and pop including the likes of Manic Street Preachers, The Fratellis, The View, Arctic Monkeys, Snow Patrol and whoever else young people listen to these days - and occasionally older stuff from as far back as the ‘80s like The Smiths and the Pixies).

I've gradually become converted to the spoken word CD myself. The classic radio comedies like The Goons, The Navy Lark and I'm Sorry I haven't a Clue or BBC radio series of Sherlock Holmes can now help while away a sleepless night. Listening to Gregorian chant (or as my girlfriend calls it "howling monks") can also be very therapeutic if you're having a dark night of the soul.

An audio book if I can’t be arsed reading it can sometimes do the job. I get less time to read nowadays - in my previous job I used to spend the best part of 2 hours every day on a train so got plenty of reading done - but in the new job I’m based out in the sticks so now I drive to work.

Anyway, getting back to the radio theme, I was brought up on a steady diet of BBC Radio Ulster. My father would have it on every morning before school at breakfast I was subjected to the dulcet tones of Michael Nesbitt, Wendy Austin and Gerry Anderson. Then it was back home from school just in time to hear George Jones putting on a silly accent phoning some innocent member of the public and pretending to be from the Gas Board only to revert to his normal voice and wish the victim happy birthday. They don’t make them like they use to. Then during my stuent days I would amuse myself of an afternoon listening to all the crazy callers on Talkback.

It’s now 9 years since I left Norn Iron/the Pravince/Occupied 6 Counties/the Land of No/Over There (Civil servants in the said entity’s Department of Regional Development delete where appropriate) for the “Mainland”/Across the Water/England’s green and pleasant land, so have been hearing a lot less of the above.
Many would say this was a blessing, but I have to admit you couldn’t get much worse than Kiss (the radio station that is - not the labial mark of affection or the heavy metal band who used to wear a lot of make-up). No disrespect to my nameless work colleague who insists in having it on in the morning. I'm not an advocate of the radio in the workplace anyway as it can be too much of a distraction. So I’d rather have it off all day.

No pun intended of course.

CD Review: Marillion - Somewhere Else - Please come back Fish!

2007-05-22T21:16:00.000+01:00

An article in the review section of a leading Sunday paper notes that 2007 in popular music circles has been labelled the year of the comeback. The Police are back on the beat and stinging a generation of middle-aged fans into reliving their youth with every breath they take, The Eagles are re-checking in to Hotel California, Rage Against the Machine are raging against the machine again and gothic blasphemy merchants The Jesus & Mary Chain are rising again on the third day. Oh, and staying with the biblical theme, Genesis are being rather irritating too.

In the film world Sliced Alone has recently re-entered the ring in a risible comeback by the 60-year old boxer Rocky Balboa. The Italian Stallion should have been sent to the cat food factory years ago. I haven't seen the film, but I imagine that like its predessors it would be quite entertaining to watch if seen as a comedy.

Marillion - could do better

Another band who have been around for a very long time, but stubbornly refuse to go away, despite coming in for much criticism - not to mention ridicule - are Marillion. Although their glory days of the mid-80s are long gone, and few people under 30 will have even heard of them, they've consistently managed to churn out a half-decent album every few years and even secured a rare top 10 single "You're Gone" (how appropriate) in 2004, even though it was the result of a deliberately orchestrated internet campaign in which their website urged every fan to buy three copies, thus artificially inflating sales, but there you go.

Marillion's latest album "Somewhere Else" however is a definite disappointment. There's nothing new or innovative there at all. It's as if they've just recycled their old material and re-named the songs. There's the usual U2 style moralising ("The wretched of the earth exploited by the rich few/What's new?"), the pseudo-intellectual philosophising ("Better to be a doctor or a man who walks the earth/Hedonistic laughing boys/What's any of it worth?" or "There's no such thing as owning something/It's all borrowed for a time") and the surreal - "Mr Taurus ate a thesaurus, Made the girls cry and skipped stright to the chorus". How appropriate that Taurus is Latin for bull. And of course there's the obligatory prolonged 7-minute prog rock epic track, a concept that's wearing rather thin these days.

The sleeve design is woeful. One undeniably good thing about Marillion's early years was the elaborate art work on the album covers, now very much consigned to the wastelands. I don't want to give the lads a rough ride, but they've got thick skins considering all the crap they've taken in the past. however "Somewhere Else" seems like a lazy effort with little thought or creativity within. The name of the album could well have been inspired by the question "Where are they now?". They can do better than this. Almost 20 years after his departure, maybe it's time Fish re-joined the band.
A case of swimming against the tide?

Storm-ont in a Teacup

2007-05-08T23:17:00.000+01:00

"Hello darkness, my old friend..." Art Garfunkel: Deputy First Minister in the new Northern Ireland Assembly

It seems appropriate (or inappropriate as the case may be) that I should return to blogging on a yet another supposedly "historic" day for Northern Ireland (suppressed yawn). You may accuse me of being cynical, but haven't we heard it all before? To be fair though, I never thought I'd see messrs Paisley & McGuinness Inc sitting down to negotiate a deal. It certainly looks like the Doc has mellowed in his old age.
Tony, in the final phase of his reign of course seized the opportunity, grinning like a Cheshire cat throughout, desperate to be remembered for bringing peace to one jurisdiction rather than aiding an abetting an illegal and pointless invasion of another resulting in prolonged sectarian bloodshed, religious fundamentalism and a future of instability. What goes around comes around.

The media trotted out the usual clichés "Northern Ireland can finally look forward to a peaceful and prsoperous future on a day which no-one could have dreamed of 10 years ago, etc, etc..." And didn't the whole thing look so stage-managed? The musical accompaniment, the banter, the pomp and ceremony, Bertie (in a perfect photo op before the Irish elections - just where did all those brown envelopes go?), Tony and Marty with self-congratulatory handshakes all round, Ian Snr cracking up at his own jokes, Ian Jnr basking in the glory.

Although neither Sinn Féin or the DUP are my party of choice, I welcome any initiative that can potentially improve the quality of life for the people of Northern Ireland, but the cynic in me wonders just how long the latest power-sharing deal can last.

Writer's Blog

2007-04-24T20:14:00.000+01:00

Or should that be "blogger's right"? Do bloggers have rights? Is the blogger always right?

Anyway, getting to the point, if there are any regular readers of this site left they may have noticed the proliferation of weeds growing due to recent neglect. Lack of time and inspiration are the main reasons. I'll write something here if I feel it's worth writing about, but I won't post any old crap just for the sake of maintaining a blog site and getting more hits. The Dreaming Arm will not sacrifice quality ("what quality?" you may ask!) for the sake of quantity. So basically what I'm saying is that I haven't quite gone away - to paraphrase a well-known and highly overrated (not even particularly funny in my opinion) Monty Python sketch - the Dreaming Arm is not dead, but just resting. I will carry on blogging, but just not as regularly as before

Back from the wilderness

2007-04-15T21:55:00.000+01:00

To all rabid devotees of the "Arm" - yes I know it's been quite some time since my last confession (I mean post), but change has been in the air. I've just started a new job after 6 years in my old job, so the inevitable upheaval has taken its toll on my blogging activities. So to herald the coming of April and the good weather the Arm is back with a vengeance. And what better way to do this than to introduce our second ever guest contributor, Rufus Dread (no relation to Judge as far as I know).

Rufus has written a fascinating and enlightening piece on that much maligned and mocked profession librarianship. Please note however the opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the Dreaming Arm. Furthermore the Arm accepts no liability for the deaths or cardigan thefts of any librarians by act of God, alien mutilation or catalogue indexing. It's good stuff - think of the literary consequences of Twenty Major and Franz Khafka getting pissed and stoned together and there you have it.

Take it away Rufus:

"Info-Mutants" by Rufus Dread

Librarians are traditionally known for their love of cardigans, spectacles and woolly underpants. To say they wouldn’t say boo to a goose is to put it mildy, but this breed of unassuming know-it-alls play a pivotal and sinister role in serving their masters whose aim is to create the new world order.

The horror began for me many years ago. My father was the village librarian in a remote Yorkshire village. I was an only child, my mother died when I was two in an obscure corn beef tinning accident.

Picture, if you will, a lonely and futile childhood spent roaming the moors and scratching out a living under the rule of a merciless coward - a spineless jellyfish of a man with a taste for Brains faggots - a man whose only joy was the Dewey Decimal Classification System. Evenings were spent in the meticulous repairing of broken book spines and perusing dusty volumes in search of defacement, graffiti or
(Christ have mercy), bodily fluids.

Bearded, spectacled and spluttering my father ruled with a rod of iron (which he also used to insert security tags into books) forbidding any comradeship and instilling in me only the love for the maintenance, classification and adoration of the book.

I was insular, snivelling and driven by my passion for books. Puberty passed me by, and I shunned the world of my school mates favouring solitude, dust and candlelight. My first sexual experience was with a first edition Dickens, but my eagle eyed father detected a pubic hair amidst the pages of Nicholas Nickleby and thrashed me to within an inch of my life for my troubles.

The day was 14th July 1979 a few days after my sixteenth birthday. I had spent Saturday cataloguing my fathers’ socks when I knocked at his door after hearing some peculiar grunting sounds coming from within. I got no response so I entered the room, and the sight of what met me almost had me wretching with fear. The bottom half of what presented itself to me was my father - the sandals and chords (yellow) were unmistakeable. But the top half of my father was transformed into green scaly flesh, stick like arms with webbed fingers and a bug like head (think de-horned grasshopper) . Moments passed like hours as my eyes met the eyes of the beast, its yellowing tongue protruding and withdrawing from the flabby mouth.

Terror seized me and I screamed “Where is my father you slimy cunt?”
“My name is Kronos … I’m going to make you unconscious now” was the last thing I heard before crumpling into a heap.

I awoke underground in a labyrinth of tunnels and caves. Everywhere were the half- human-half-reptile beasts holding burning torches. The women were only identifiable by their long skirts and brown tights. I was dragged kicking and screaming into a large dimly lit cave where a differently shaped insecticoid met me. The bottom half was the same, a human librarian, black chords and brown brogues. But this monstrosity had the upper body of an Iguana.
“Hello, I’m Iggy, I’m going to tell you about us and our mission here on your earth. Biscuit?”
Over the next few hours I learned about this amphibious race who had come to earth around 2000 BC and bred with humans by force. The offspring became a race of humanoids who had the ability to shift between normal human form and reptillia humanoid, their true state.
“What in the name of God was their mission?” I kept thinking to myself.
“I know what your thinking” said Iggy, “I have teleconetic powers”

Since the time of the Royal library of Alexandria in Egypt at the beginning of the 3rd Century BC the info-mutants (as they like to be known) have infiltrated the world of librarians, slowly gaining dominance until by about 100AD they had complete control of libraries and librarians worldwide. Every librarian since then has been an info-mutant, unassuming by day and catching flies with their tongues by night.

Their mission is simple. To create a new world order where they, the info-bugs, rule the planet and make the entire human race a breed of slaves providing their resources. When the time is right the info-mutants will reveal themselves and take control. They are waiting till they have sufficient numbers to overthrow us. The more libraries spread over the globe, the greater their number becomes.

I was dazed, crying, screaming, unable to comprehend.
“Now, would you mind taking all your clothes off and bending over so I can insert this breeding rod up your arse” said Iggy.

I became frantic, “got to escape”, but it was useless, I was surrounded and battered into unconsciousness.

I awoke back at the cottage dazed and head badly bruised. My father had apparently vanished. I had an awful pain in my arse. I guessed (rightly) that I’d been impregnated by the info-mutants.

Over the next few years I tried to fight against what was within me, a giant bug. I was able to shape-shift at will but I couldn’t join their filthy conspiracy and surrender my humanity. Maybe my father had felt the same, I never saw him again. I wondered whether my mother had known, or whether she had known too much. Maybe the corn beef tinning accident was just a ruse.

I became an activist, burning down libraries, going to prison, living like a wild animal on the moors, and transforming into a reptile at night. But never did I yield to the will of the info-mutant.

I implore you citizens of the world to take action against the enemy. Burn their books, break their spectacles and spit in their bemused pudgy faces. Take action before it is too late. Join me friends and save yourself from a life of slavery under the fascist boot of the reptile-librarian.

I've been tagged part 2

2007-03-23T12:29:00.000Z

OK, for the benefit of Lorainne, Grumpy Old Man and Cybez, the previous posting just contained a title and no text because for some reason the Blogger set-up on my PC wouldn't allow it. I'm using a library PC now, so below is the text of what the previous post was supposed to have been:

It's come to my notice that I've been "tagged" by Cybez and Lula Bell (as well as Lorainne some time ago), so I've entered into the spirit of things and here are 5 amazing, ground-breaking facts about me:

1. I've climbed Mount Errigal twice
2. I've seen the Blarney Stone, but didn't kiss it
3. I did a stand-up comedy routine at the Empire in Belfast where the compere at the time was a certain P. Kielty who was slightly funnier and less irritating than he is now.
4. I played Freddie Eynsford-Hill in a production of Pygmalion
5. I was a teacher of English as a foreign language in Puertollano, Spain in 1997.

I would love to reveal many more earth-shattering facts about my life (such as the time I climbed Mount Everest during a snow storm equipped only with a toothpick and an armadillo), but the rules of tagging unfortunately specify a limit of 5 things.

I've been tagged

2007-03-21T22:00:00.000Z

Bats out of Hell in Jamaica

2007-03-18T19:30:00.000Z

What a surreal experience I had on Saturday night - and I don't mean the magic leprechauns inside my head jumping up and telling me to down another pint of porter at the end of the rainbow.

I never thought I’d spend St Patrick’s night in an Irish pub in London with the punters fixated on a cricket match in the West Indies! Even weirder is the fact that Ireland won against a major test-playing side - in a rare sporting event where tricolours and red hand of Ulster flags were waved by people supporting the same team. Has to be a good sign! I can imagine the headlines: "Pakistan knocked out by Paddystan on Paddy's Day". I've never been a big cricket fan, but have to admit I enjoyed this match. There's still time for me to be converted.

Sham-rockin' all over the world

2007-03-17T17:30:00.000Z

As Irish politicians of every shade of green (and other colours) jet of to exotic locations around the world on pointless junkets to celebrate a cold day day in March, green leaves and black liquid are apparently the order of the day. I've just been to my local to watch a romp home in Rome (which unfortunately wasn't enough to stop France taking the title)and partake of some delicious stew on the house.

Have a good one.

The price of tin

2007-03-11T11:18:00.000Z

It looks like that fantastic invention the humble tin-opener is doomed to extinction and obsolescence. Now that most tin cans have ring pulls that enable you to just pull the lid off with your bare hands it seems that tin-openers are no longer needed. Or are they? Buying a can of soup in my local supermarket I noticed some instructions on the labelling. It was one of those new-fangled tins with an easy-to-open ring pull on the lid, but the instructions said: "if you prefer to open this tin with a tin-opener just it turn it upside-down." So the tin-opener does have a future after all, as long as people open their tin cans upside down.

How very reassuring.

Blogjam in Dublin

2007-03-08T14:00:00.000Z

I’ve now just about recovered from Saturday night’s Irish Blog Awards in Dublin. What a night it was. It was the first time I’ve had the chance to meet a bunch of fellow bloggers in real life. So now I’ve met Red Mum, Mick from Slugger O’Toole, certain individuals from Iced Coffee and Dublin Opinion and the overall winner, Twenty Major. He looks quite different from the picture on the site and Jimmy the Bollix, Stinking Pete and Dirty Dave were notably absent..

Despite his claim to be “still smoking in Dublin bars”, the atmosphere was pleasantly smoke-free. The law in England is to finally follow suit in July. How times have changed.

The toads are back in town/Pat will turn...

2007-03-01T14:41:00.000Z

“On the first day of March it was raining
It was raining worse than
anything that I have ever seen
I drank ten pints of beer and I cursed all
the people there
And I wish that all this rain would stop falling down on
me.”

The Pogues, “Boys from the County Hell”

This year, it was raining on the last day of February. March has so far been dry, but it’s early days yet!

Evidence that spring is on the way has been around for some time now. Too early some might say, but whether this is due to climate change caused by global warming or simply seasonal climatic variations remains to be seen. My local park has seen an explosion of daffodils and crocuses, but it also looks like the local toad population has emerged from hibernation. On my way home from work one evening last week I came across a mating pair of toads crossing the road in the darkness. The smaller male was on top of the much larger female, who was slowly making her way to the other side, presumably on the way to the spawning ground. On the footpath was a lone toad, then another one. I suddenly had a Seamus Heaney type “Death of a Naturalist” experience and walked on. Toads, in this case the common toad (bufo bufo) appear to be quite common in the North London suburbs.

I have often seen them in the back garden, particularly at night during the summer. One on occasion I found a hibernating specimen under a rock semi-submerged in a shallow hole in the soil – toad in the hole quite literally. I left it be, then returned about three weeks later and it was still there, but soon ambled off on its way. Having been brought up in Ireland I had never previously seen this species which is absent from the island. Although the frog is quite a common site in Ireland, the only native toad species is the natterjack (bufo calamita), distinguished by a yellow line running down its back. It’s a rare and elusive creature though which only exists in various isolated sand dune-dwelling colonies in Kerry and Wexford.

They are of course harmless creatures, (unless you eat one and take ill from the poisons in the warts) and have been unfairly demonised in mythology due to their sinister appearance. The toad has played a prominent role in popular culture from Kenneth Graham’s famous Toad of Toad to Toad Hall to Dangermouse’s arch enemy Baron Greenback and of course Touchwood, the familiar of Catweazle, a wizard from the middle ages who accidentally gets flung forwards in time to the 20th century in the children’s TV series of the early 1970s. As portrayed by the great character actor Geoffrey Bayldon - the wizard not the toad I mean.

St Pat will be turning in his grave
Talking of springtime it’s just over 2 weeks to go till that annual feast of indulgence known as International Guinness Day, known in more traditional circles as St Patrick’s Day. Many of the pubs around London (and not just the Irish ones) already have the big Guinness banners, the balloons and the cardboard shamrocks hanging outside. Come March 17th these pubs will inevitably be packed to the rafters with punters, plastic paddy or otherwise in tacky leprechaun hats singing and dancing (or at least attempting to) along to the Dubliners, the Pogues or whoever. And the shareholders of Diageo plc will be rubbing their hands with glee. Each to their own of course, but the irony is that St Patrick’s Day is now a bigger event in England than St George’s Day, which has always been a fairly low key event. Come to think of it, today is St David’s Day, yet I haven’t noticed any pubs decorated with inflatable red dragons or cardboard daffodils and leeks offering special discounts on pints of Brains and Cwrw.

Anyway, it seems that this year’s Paddy’s day gimmick is Guinness flavoured marmite, which I noticed in my local supermarket a few weeks ago, a phenomenon which didn’t go unnoticed by Slugger O’Toole. I enjoy the occasional pint of the black velvet devil’s buttermilk (responsibly and in moderation of course!), but don’t marmite was never a regular dietary feature of mine. I can’t see this trend catching on somehow. I vaguely remember Guinness flavour ice cream coming out a few years ago, then vanishing without a trace. What will it be next – Fosters flavour vegemite? Magners flavoured apple crumble? Cheese and onion flavour crisps? The mind boggles.

Political Correctness and the “Boys to entertain you”

2007-02-28T12:33:00.000Z

I was having an e-mail debate about political correctness with a mate recently. It all started with reminiscing about a long-forgotten BBC sitcom of the 1970s and ‘80s called “It Ain’t Half Hot Mum” about the antics of an army entertainment troupe stationed in the Indian jungle towards of the end of World War II. Although, the humour was relatively harmless, this type of show would by today’s standards be deemed politicially incorrect. According to the BBC comedy guide the main bone of contention was that one of the Indian characters was played by a white actor blacked up to look Asian - something you would never see nowadays, which may explain the lack of repeats compared with other popular sitcoms of the day. But to be fair there were very few Asian actors around in those days.

Having said that the humour was relatively harmless, but we now live in an age of political correctness gone mad. Apparently the actor Melvyn Hayes, who played "Gloria" in the show, said on a TV chat show about the issue of political correctness and comedy that when the show ended, he would often be stopped in the street by angry Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi traders, workers, and businessmen who would ask "Why have they taken OUR show off the television?"

The concept of political correctness is in my opinion a good thing in itself (e.g. it's not that long ago since Irish jokes were a common feature in the repertoire of many popular TV comedians - most of them desperately unfunny anyway), but has got to the point where you can hardly even breathe now without fear of offending some minority group. So while I would agree that PC-ness has gone too far in today's society, I think its basic concept is for an honourable purpose. We also live in an era where there is a proliferation of ethnic minority comedians (the Kumars, Lenny Henry, Gina Yashere, etc and across the Atlantic Eddie Murphy and the late Richard Pryor) who can make jokes about their racial origins that a white comedian would never get away with. Also certain comedians have deliberately gone against the grain by being deliberately politically incorrect (eg “Little Britain”), which helps challenge stereotypes and societal values and attitudes, so in my opinion is a good thing.

At this point my mate agreed with my argument about the basic decent purpose of political correctness, in that it “protects the honour of the weak and undefended, i.e. as a shield, but when it is used as a "sword" by white Europeans who simply wish to feel persecuted or have an axe to grind about something or somebody, or by ethnic minority or white middle class professionals who wish to advance up the career ladder, then it becomes a tool of evil.”.

Very true.

Regarding “It Ain't Half Hot Mum”, I thought the funniest bit was the bit at the very end which came after the credits, but bear in mind I was 7 years old at the time:

Picture a studio set of a clearing in the jungle with a house of bamboo cane and straw in the background. A few chickens strut around, pecking at pieces of grain on the ground.
Then we hear the opening lines of “Land of Hope and Glory” sung badly out of tune in a comedy Indian accent accompanied by a hand drum and sitar strings – “Land of hope and glory, mother of the free…”
The song is suddenly interrupted by a very loud sergeant major’s assertive military voice:

"SHAAAAAADDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!."

Sitar strings go awry. Chickens run for cover.

They don’t make them like they used to.

Shock Horror – National Anthems played at international rugby match!

2007-02-26T16:03:00.000Z

Isaac shows who's the Boss

The match certainly lived up to its expectations and the atmosphere at Croke Park was electric – you could even tell this from the TV! I’ve been to All-Ireland finals at Croker, but this was something else, despite the rain pissing down throughout the game. The better team won by a mile and they certainly had the overwhelming psychological advantage. It's a fantastic stadium and about time it got the international exposure it deserves.

Then of course, there was the small matter of the playing of a certain national anthem. A rather silly and pointless debate which was milked and hyped up for all its worth by the media on both sides of the Irish Sea. It’s standard practice to play the anthems of both teams at international sporting fixtures, so to suggest anything else is simply irrelevant.

It looks like the ghosts of Croke Park’s past have finally been laid to rest.

Irish Blog Awards 2007

2007-02-13T16:24:00.000Z

With less than three weeks to go to Ireland’s second annual blog award ceremony, The Dreaming Arm has been nominated in the best arts & culture blog category. I’m facing some stiff competition as there is a very high standard of blogging out there. So may the best blogs win!

The full list of nominations can be viewed here.

To vote for the blogs of your choice go here.

I plan to be there at the Alexander Hotel on Saturday, 3rd March and look forward to meeting some fellow bloggers.

Indo lacking in Dutch courage
By chance I came across a piece in that reactionary rag known as the Irish Independent (“I’m a victim. See my gig”, 13 February). It’s the usual Indo fayre in the features section where the rottweiler barks loudly against anything they disapprove of, but fails to come up with any solutions or have anything good to say about anything. The article starts off by castigating the singer Mary Coughlan for allegedly wallowing in her own victimhood to publicise her gig. It then has a pop at a campaign initiated by pro-Palestinain activists to boycott Israeli diamonds. A campaign, which began in Galway, which the writer in his/her own infinite smugness describes as “Ireland’s most annoyingly smug city”. While I would not lend support to such a campaign (however people in Galway may want to start a boycott the Indo campaign), I am in favour of newspaper journalists getting their facts right. And I quote:

“…the fact that 80% of all rough diamonds, 50% of all cut diamonds and more than 50% of all rough, cut and industrial diamonds combined are handled through Antwerp, which means we should surely be boycotting Dutch diamonds, is neither here nor there”.

I suppose the simple fact that Antwerp is in Belgium is neither here nor there either.

Choker in Croker

2007-02-13T10:45:00.000Z

In March 2005 during the tension surrounding the build-up to the GAA’s imminent decision on whether to open Croke Park up to non-Gaelic games I had a letter published in the Irish World newspaper. The gist of my argument was that it was about time the GAA abandoned its little Irelander mentality of narrow-minded conversatism and hostility towards "foreign" games, an attitude which has no place in the enlightened cosmopolitan Ireland of the 21st century. In any case the costs of Croker's redevelopment came partly out of the taxpayers' pockets so the people who financed the project had every right to decide how it should be used. 6 months later I was in Croke Park itself at the 2005 All Ireland final when the Red Hands plundered the Kingdom top bring the cup back across the border. One of many memorable events the park has played host to.
And now the Ireland v France 6 Nations rugby match, a different kettle of fish... And we had the inevitable jokes about southsiders wary of crossing the Liffey to behold he strange world of the northside.

It was a shame about the result, but Europe’s fourth biggest sports stadium was a genial host. I watched the game on the BBC, who didn't fail to play up the sense of occasion. They even provided a brief history lesson in the run-up to the game. Even BBC Radio 4 had a piece on its Sunday morning news by Ulick O’Connor with references to Bloody Sunday in 1920 and De Valera officiating at an All-Ireland hurling final.

From floodlit matches to "foreign games", Croke Park has truly come circle. Few will doubt that the right decision has been made. The GAA would allow highly offensive spectacles such as U2 concerts and even Leinster finals at Croke Park, but not so much as a rugby or soccer match...that is until now. The organisation, once commonly referred to as the Grab All Association would have been mad to turn down fees of £1 million per match in any case.
So the GAA's infamous Rule 42 has at last been (albeit temporarily) laid to rest. The very number cited by the universe's most powerful computer, according to the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy as the answer to the question of the meaning of life. Surely it can't be a coincidence?

Blood Diamond - Action Movie or Polemical Drama?

2007-02-03T18:09:00.000Z

It's all too easy to dismiss Ed Zwick's film as the latest in a long line of African morality tales as seen through white western eyes in the tradition of Hotel Rwanda, Shooting Dogs, The Constant Gardener and The Last KIng of Scotland. The didactic message of such works is obvious - terrible things go on in Africa, for which the rich world is either partly to blame or at best indifferent to. Furthermore celebrities like Madonna, Bob Geldof and Bono get slated by the media for jumping on the African bandwagon while conspicuously flaunting their own wealth. These individuals are certainly guilty of a degree of hypocrisy, but at least they have succeeded in bringing such issues into the global spotlight - ie if they kept their mouths shut the broader public would be ignorant as to what's going on in Africa.

Blood Diamond manages to be both entertaining and informative, despite its implausible plot. Leonardo Di Caprio with a convicning accent slips easily into the role of Danny Archer, a South African diamond smuggler sent to war-torn Sierra Leone by his unscrupulous masters who develops a crisis of conscience over the morality of his actions. Djimon Hounsou as Solomon Vanda, a Sierra Leonean fisherman separated from his family in the mayhem of war who is abducted by the rebel militia and forced to mine for diamonds. Honsou's performance as the desperate father and husband anxious to be reunited with his family is superb, even though his muscular figure seems somewhat unrealistic for an impoverished African.

It is the unlikely pairing of Archer and Vanda in their quest for a hidden diamond which forms the basis of the plot. There is a great deal of violence in the film, which although not unusual in the depiction of a bloody and brutal war is at times unnecessary. There are scenes which descend into unconvincing Rambo-style shoot-outs from which Di Caprio always seemd to emerge unscathed. One highly effective scene however portrays a prolonged gun battle between government troops and rebels in Sierra Leone's capital Freetown. For a full five minutes of non-stop action the audience's ears are bombarded with the sound of gunfire and explosions which is then followed by an eerie calm brilliantly captured by an aerial shot of the city with plumes of smoke rising from the buildings.

Jennifer Conelly as crusading American journalist Maddy Bowen determined to expose the evils of the African diamond trade to the world is the conscience of the film. Her role as the nice middle class white girl out to help the poor Africans and bring the big bad diamond traders to justice rather than "sipping lattes and discussing interest rates", as she put it is a little too sickly sweet however. Despite getting into constant scrapes under the hot African sun and roughing it through the jungle Connelly remains immaculately turned out throughout in neatly pressed clothes free of any stains or rips, with not a single hair out of place, nor a drop of sweat. Minor details such as these detract from the overall realism of the film. Nevertheless the basic message is well put across. It was in the interests of European diamond traders to keep the war in Sierra Leone going so that smugglers could collect the "blood diamonds" from rebel forces and make handsome profits from the jewellery markets of London and Antwerp.

Although the main moral aim of the film is to open the viewer's eyes to the terrible things caused by the trade in coflict diamonds, (a practice which has now been banned by the international community, as we are told in the closing credits), its other theme is the induction of children into the theatre of war. Solomon Vanda's youg son, Dia is kidnapped by rebels who brainwash and turn him along with a number of other boys into a killing machine. There are still several thousand boy soldiers fighting wars across Africa according to the footnotes of the end titles.

Some of the location filming in South Africa, Mozambique and Sierra Leone itself is spectacular, urging the audience to wonder how such terrible things can happen in such a beautiful place. For anyone unfamilar with the subject matter Blood Diamond does a good job of explaining the complexities of what went on in Sierra Leone in the late 1990s and indeed the horrors what still goes on in many other African countries, which despite their abundance of valuable natural resources remain ravaged by poverty and warfare.

Poles dancing to a different tune

2007-01-30T17:59:00.000Z

We’ve heard all the clichés about the biggest European peacetime mass migration experienced in modern times as thousands of young Poles continue to journey west, making the trip from Warsaw to Walsall, from Lublin to Dublin, from Poznan to Portadown to seek their fortune. An article in today’s Financial Times takes a different angle – the decline of the music and nightlife scene in Poland due to the exodus of its youth.

Money in the bank

2007-01-30T17:39:00.000Z

Returning briefly to the African theme, I received another generous cash offer from a benevolent Nigerian in my inbox this morning.

The e-mail purportedly comes from Ocha Douglas, a bank manager from Lagos - and guess what happens when you type that name into Google – yes, the first hit you get is this site on fake fee/lottery scams. A mere coincidence, I’m sure. Ocha is obviously a kind soul as one of his customers, Haryanto Tomo, an Indonesian gent was killed in the tsunami, but not before having deposited $10.5 million in the bank. How convenient. So Ocha’s intententions are purely altruistic as he/she just wanted to send the money on to Mr Tomo’s family, but was unable to track them down. Again, how very convenient. So the $10.5 million could be on its way to me. All I need to do is provide my contact details and it will be transferred.

And just to prove that he/she is genuine, Ocha has stipulated “It may interest you to know that this is no Scam or fairy tale email”. That’s reassuring. Just for a moment I thought it was another scam, but since Ocha has given me his/her word, I stand corrected. Fear not Ocha, my details are on their way.

World Economic Forum 2007

2007-01-30T12:47:00.000Z

The World Economic Forum - "an independent international organization committed to improving the state of the world by engaging leaders in partnerships to shape global, regional and industry agendas". With the aim of exterminating poverty?

Apparently it was held at Davros this year.

Comment moderation error

2007-01-26T20:15:00.000Z

It's come to my notice that the comment facility on this blog hasn't been working lately because the moderator approval mode was on. I don't know how this happened, it was totally unintentional, but the situation has now been rectified, so anyone wishing to post comments can now do so freely. Apologies to anyone who tried to comment earlier, but couldn't get through. If you have a backlog of comments for previous posts feel free to add them.

A Continent ready to break free from its chains?

2007-01-25T20:34:00.000Z

Either by chance or by a strange twist of fate I've had Africa consistently on my mind of late. Shortly before Christmas at a bargain book sale I picked up a work called The Shackled Continent by Robert Guest, a writer with The Economist magazine. It's an excellent read which covers a very broad and complicated subject in a succinct and interesting way. Guest attempts to explain why Africa has become so infamous throughout the western world as a continent of poverty, disease, famine, war, corruption and despotism.

The film magazine Sight & Sound in its latest issue has a special feature on African cinema, something which appears to be going through a renaissance at the moment. I recently went to see The Last King of Scotland, a first rate film capturing the vibrancy of Africa and building up tp a thrilling climax. Forest Whitaker (who I last saw as a British soldier with a convincing Birmingham accent) is on top form throughout as Ugandan dictator Idi Amin, brilliantly conveying his Jekyll and Hyde character which alternates between bungling clown and evil psychopath. In short an excellent film adapted from an excellent book even though both tend to mix historical fact with fiction in a somewhat confusing way. The subject matter is certainly topical considering how many other African nations are to this day suffering under the yoke of similarly tyrannical regimes. Zimbabwe, a country whose once flourishing tourist industry has all but been destroyed by the insane policies of Mugabe springs to mind. Zimbabwe of course is not rich in oil, nor does it occupy a strategic position of potential benefit to America, so the west leaves it well alone, allowing another dictator to continually subjugate and torture his citizens.

I've also acquired a dvd of The Constant Gardener featuring Ralph Fiennes as a diplomat attempting to expose the hidden agenda of unscrupulous pharmaceutical companies in Africa following the murder of his wife played by Rachel Weisz. And I look forward to seeing the newly released Blood Diamond starring Leonardo di Caprio, a morality tale highlighting the evils of diamond mining and conscription of child soldiers in Sierra Leone.

So it was to my surprise that I saw on the side of a London bus an ad promoting the Nigerian tourist board. Nigeria has come in for bad press lately. Stories of foreign oil workers being abducted and gullible westerners falling for elaborate e-mail scams would not exactly persuade you to visit the country. Having said that it is a big place and we only hear the horror stories rather than getting the bigger picture, so good luck to the tourist campaign. The country badly needs tourist money, but lets hope it benefits local economies rather than end up in the pockets of corrupt government officials and their cronies.

France in mourning for one of its greatest

2007-01-24T10:23:00.000Z

“We have no ambitions other than being a flea that bites a politician or a bureaucrat, shouting “Wake up!”, so they will finally hear the silent voice of the people”
Abbé Pierre 1912-2007

To my great ignorance and shame and, despite having studied French for several years, I had never heard of this remarkable man before his death was announced a couple of days ago. Although little known outside France, he consistently topped the country’s popularity charts and came third in a poll to find “le plus grand français de tous les temps” behind former president Charles de Gaulle and scientist Louis Pasteur. He earned great respect as a campaigner for social justice having come to the aid of Jewish refugees during the WWII and founding the homeless charity Emmaus. There were times when he courted controversy, but was not afraid to stand up for what he believed in for the greater good.

Paper Jam

2007-01-23T17:25:00.000Z

Anyone who commutes regularly to and from central London (or for that matter most urban agglomerations across the western world) will know about the glut of free newspapers available on public transport nowadays. In the morning you have Metro, which now has editions right across Europe. It fills the gap when you’re on a bus or train not looking forward to a another day in the office. Not exactly in-depth or full of expert analysis, but it is free. Being in an overcrowded train with a lack of reading material to hand can be a frustrating experience, so I’m all for free papers. In the City, there’s also a financial paper City AM which has news of the latest deals. mergers, acquisitions and all that stuff.
In the evening there’s the Standard Lite and The London Paper, which are more or less the same. The vendors often compete with each other outside the stations to see who can get rid of their pile first. The latter to its credit though has a section where readers can vent their spleen on any chosen topic of the day by submitting their own articles.
On Fridays there’s even a free sports paper. The problem is there are just too many papers. It takes me all week to read the Sunday paper alone, so all the free publications just pile up.
We live in a media-saturated society of 24 hour news, round the clock bulletins and information overload.
One free paper is enough. In any case it’s not as if your average commuter can’t afford one.

Springing a surprise too early

2007-01-23T09:22:00.000Z

We hear so much about global warming and climate change nowadays. Spring seems to come earlier every year. Apparently the daffodils are popping up too soon and bears in certain parts of the world are no longer hibernating. It seems that the retail industry has also succumbed to this seasonal confusion. At the weeked in my local supermarket to my bewilderment I noticed a few chocolate rabbits and the odd Easter egg on the shelves. It’s a whole month before the beginning of Lent alone! There’s still even Christmas stuff still selling at reduced price and they’re already attempting to cash in on the next religious/pagan festival (ie commercial money-making opportunity). And inevitably on the Tuesday after Easter Monday these same chocolate rabbits, a continental European concept I believe will be selling at half price. I will strongly resist the temptation here to make any crap puns about hare cuts or the supermarkets being hopping mad.

Has Reality TV had its day?

2007-01-16T10:34:00.000Z

What is it with the media and these so-called reality TV shows featuring celebrities? Personally, I see no appeal in the concept of a bunch of washed-up has-beens who refuse to get along holed up in a house or in the jungle. Look at the front pages of the tabloid press and you can read about the latest gossip from the “big brother” house. I even heard on the radio this morning about allegations of racism in the house making their way into what would have been called all those years ago before stricter hygiene laws came into being “tomorrow’s fish and chip wrapping”. Apparently it’s “bigot brother” now. Anything to sell papers I suppose.
Even the so-called “quality” newspapers are at it, albeit in a more subtle way. In the review pages you’ll get some pretentious journalist analysing the whole thing by spouting meaningless jargon from the pages of a psychology text book or making some bullshit statement about the celebrity in post-modern society and the impact of the media on the subconscious in an attempt to sneer at the contestants and assert their supposed moral and intellectual superiority.

I can see how some people (i.e. those with little better to do) get a voyeuristic sense of fascination about the whole phenomenon. It was a novel idea when it first came out, but surely “reality TV” has had its day? This piece isn’t an anti-“Big Brother” rant per se, but a criticism of the public fascination and the lazy journalism as a result of the media hype that develops around it. I’m not one of those moaners given to complaining about the falling standards in television. If I don’t like what I see on the screen I’ll change channels or switch off completely. Besides, there are a many other distractions to keep one’s mind occupied during these long cold winter nights.

In the words of eminent zoologist and professional “people watcher” Desmond Morris (whose excuse for watching such crap is the opportunity to study human behaviour):

“There is no point in feeling sorry for these celebrities because they are all volunteers and are being highly paid. Earlier versions of this kind of public entertainment, such as the clamping of criminals in public stocks to have rotten food thrown at them, or dangling them from gibbets to dance the hangman's hornpipe, as it was cheerfully called, were also immensely popular with our ancestors, but those unfortunate victims had not volunteered for their roles.”

So true.

Now if the TV viewers could choose exactly what celebrities they could put into the Big Brother house (or some remote desert island/jungle/nuclear waste processing plant), that certainly would be worth watching. Any suggestions?

Seasons End

2007-01-06T14:48:00.000Z

It's not the happiest time of year for many of us in the northern hemisphere. The Christmas/New Year euphoria is but a dim and distant memory, it's back to work and with another three months of long, cold, wet nights ahead the mid-winter blues begin to kick in. It was thus with great interest that I noticed a press release issued by the Met Office forecasting the summer of 2007 to be the hottest on record. No great surprise, considering how hot the last few summers have been and how mild January has been so far. Personally, I enjoy warm weather, but if we experience prolonged periods of unnaturally high temperatures this is cause for concern.

On a more optimistic note 2007 looms ahead like a vast tract of land on the horizon waiting to be discovered. Forthcoming events of note include the banning of smoking in pubs in England, something I look forward to immensely. Around this time last year I was in a pub in Dublin by which time the Irish smoking ban had been well established. The difference was almost tangible. The air inside was so much fresher and leaving the place without my clothes reeking of smoke was such a relief. Hopefully such bans will discourage smoking particularly among the young with the possible knock-on effect of smokers cutting down on drink by not going to their local pub. And with less pollution in the atmosphere, the effects of global warming will decrease and we will have pleasantly warm summers without the risk of overheating. OK, maybe I'm being overoptimistic here, but going into a brave new year you have to look on the bright side of life.

"And the bells were ringing out..."

2006-12-22T16:01:00.000Z

To all readers of the Dreaming Arm and fellow scribblers across the blogsophere and beyond...have a happy and peaceful Christmas/winter holiday and may your hopes be fulfilled in 2007.

Quote of the Day

2006-12-16T19:05:00.000Z

"...before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can , in addition to realizing our dreams master the lessons we've learned as we've moved toward that dream. That's the point at which most people give up. It's the point at which, as we say in the language of the desert, "one dies of thirst just when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon"".

From The Alchemist by Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho

Food for thought indeed. A lesson to us all of the dangers of throwing in the towel too soon.

Society found wanting

2006-11-30T17:43:00.000Z

As a follow-up to my recent post on the “bullshit society”, I’ve been reading Corinne Maier’s exposé of the corporate world “Hello Laziness”, the English translation of “Bonjour Paresse”.

Maier laments the dumbing down of higher education and the devaluation of the university degree which has steadily occurred over the last few decades:

“The 1960s faith in social progress and job security is long behind us. There’s a bitter wind blowing, and hordes of overqualified people are trying to seek shelter, begging for a job in admin, shuffling paperclips. [I’ve been in jobs where this was certainly the case – CW].
Business offers little hope for the future. Generations to come will need ever better qualifications in order to do less worthwhile jobs, and to perform less inspiring tasks. […]
Postmen, bank clerks and railway ticket inspectors now seem to require a degree – a bit of paper that only fifty years ago would have defined you as an intellectual.”

Not as far-fetched an observation as it may seem.

If you’re at a party making casual conversation how many times do you hear the line “I work in business” or “I work in IT”, with very little notion of how these people actually spend their working day. Maier pounces on this increasingly common phenomena, adding that “no-one, absolutely no-one, will ask, ‘What do you do?’ or even ‘What kind of business?’”
Of course you’re less likely to hear someone say “I’m a blacksmith”, “I’m a taxidermist” or “I’m a falconer”. Society and the workplace has become boring by default.

To say that traditional trades and ways of life are being swallowed up by the monster of global capitalism, rapid urbanisation and technology is perhaps a tad dramatic. We do need to move with the times and although western society is certainly becoming more affluent, this affluence has come at a price.

The business world needs to ditch the nonsensical jargon and start calling a spade a spade. A generation of jobseekers will be better off for it.

No beating about the Bush

2006-11-25T18:07:00.000Z

I've recently been reading What Happened Here: Bush Chronicles, a selection of essays on the Bush presidency by American commentator Eliot Wenberger. The current White House administration ("the military-industrial-Christian fundamentalist complex") comes in for much flack, with Weinberger sparing no detail on what he really thinks of the President:

"There are coups led by powerful individuals to install themselves, and coups where powerful forces install a figurehead. This American version is clearly the latter. In terms of previous government service, George W Bush is the least qualified person ever to become President. For most of his life he has been a type familiar to most of us from late adolescence: the bad boy rich kid...Grandson of a well-known Senator and Ambassador; son of a Congressman, Ambassador, CIA chief, Vice-President, and President; his family connections got him into Yale and Harvard, where he spent most of his time on things like personally branding the initiates of his fraternity with a hot iron. Having graduated with the old Ivy League "Gentleman's C", the family secured him loans of millions of dollars from wealthy friends to start a series of businesses that all failed."

Cold Light of Day

2006-11-22T15:37:00.000Z

The Dreaming Arm is attempting to publish its very first work of fiction – to be written by YOU the reader. It’s a simple idea, not a particularly new one and more of an experiment than anything else. The first paragraph is set out below. Anyone who would like to continue the story, please post your contribution in the comments section.

It was pissing down outside and the wind was howling like a wolf on heat. A cold wet miserable bastard of a night. Ideal weather for writing a novel, thought the budding young writer as she tapped merrily away on the keyboard. Then came total blackness. It was a powercut. She cursed herself for not having made a back-up disk of her novel. Three months work down the drain. Suddenly the power came back on. Almost at this precise moment the phone started ringing.

“A Bono of contention” or “U 2 could make yourself look a right eejit in court”

2006-11-17T17:55:00.000Z

The prat in the hat

The recent legal (pyrrhic?) victory at the high court in Dublin of self-styled saviour of the world, Bono of U2, in which he won the right to reclaim from his ex-stylist, a number of wardrobe items which he wore on tour nearly 20 years ago has not gone unnoticed in the media. The Guardian is particularly scathing – and quite rightly so:

“While you're on, perhaps you might ask Bono to outline the precise principle at stake in this legal case, and its relative importance? Do the trousers still fit him, given they date from the band's 1987 Joshua Tree tour? Clearly, it's been years since he would have been able to squeeze his inflated head into a ten-gallon hat, but is he attached to them in the manner that some women cling on to a pair of jeans from their "thin days" in the futile hope that they'll one day be able to get back into them? Or maybe some Bono archive is being planned? Have they been earmarked for a foyer display in the presidential library he will eventually bequeath a grateful planet?”

A leading legal academic, reacting to the judgment said “For the sake of mankind, Bono should go and boil his fucking head.”

According to the Daily Telegraph:

“As the world's leaders promised to increase aid to developing countries by £27 billion, the rock group, worth about £400 million, was embroiled in a battle to retrieve items worth £3,500. In a 38-page judgment, Mr Justice Michael Peart ordered that the hat, earrings and clothes should be re-turned to the band as well as two souvenir mugs, a Christmas decoration, two Polaroid photographs and a photocopy of a handwritten list of U2 songs.”

Jesus wept in the corner powerless to intervene.

And from the Irish Times:

“The disputed items were worth about €5,000, but going to law to retrieve them could have cost the image-conscious band a lot more in terms of showbiz credibility. Charismatic Bono tours the world campaigning to reduce Third World debt, while hiring lawyers at home to make sure a woman can't make a few bob selling a pair of his trousers?”

The judge must have thought he was presiding over a pro-bono case. [Cue stony-faced audience and deathly silence punctuated by the sound of tumbleweeds swirling in the wind and the clang of a funeral bell...I'll get my coat].

Red Hands missing out among the Bushes

2006-11-16T23:43:00.000Z

The Glenelly Valley, Co. Tyrone

It's been reported in the press that Northern Ireland has made it to the Lonely Planet Guide's list of "must see" destinations for 2007. Belfast has certainly changed radically over the past decade with its burgeoning night life, "political" tourist sites and quaint Victorian architecture, although many would contend that it's not changing fast enough. It's a cheaper alternative to Dublin for a weekend break and while the Guinness might not quite taste the same, you wouldn't notice the difference after 10 pints.
The Independent has a double page article dedicated to the attractions and hidden delights of the region.
Lonely Planet's top 15 attractions include the lakes of Fermanagh, Armagh city, Derry's walls, the Giant's Causeway and the Mourne Mountains - all deserving of the attention. So that's five counties covered, but wait a minute, isn't there one missing? No mention of the scenic Glenelly Valley, the Ulster American Folk Park, Drum Manor Forest, the Gortin Glens...not forgetting the architectural splendour of the Ballygawley roundabout.

Cross-border harmonisation of corporation tax rates on the island of Ireland

2006-11-16T23:08:00.000Z

Cross-border harmonisation of corporation tax rates on the island of Ireland
It's one of the few things Sinn Féin and the DUP agree on and speculation about this has been mounting for a few months now. It's been discussed in various blogs, including the Green Ribbon and the story even made it to the front page of yesterday's Financial Times. A report just published by the Economic Research Institute for Northern Ireland weighing in at 89 pages and liberally sprinkled with tables and diagrams recommends reducing the UK corporation tax rate of 37% in Northern Ireland to a figure more in line with that of the 12.5% rate in the Republic. The desired outcome would apparently be greater inward investment in NI, which currently has an economy excessively dependent on the public sector, so that companies would be able to compete on a more level playing field with their counterparts south of the border.
Halving the current rate of 37% would, according to the report bring about new investment in the region's economy so that NI would reach the "break even" point in tax terms by 2013. The report also forecasts an additional 184,000 jobs by 2030 under the proposed regime. So apparently making a special tax case for the region will bring "real and lasting benefits fore the NI economy", significantly reducing the productivity and prosperity gap with the UK.

It's certainly a strong case, but the question is whether the Chancellor Gordon Brown will allow for such a concession. There could easily be a backlash with Scotland and Wales demanding parity of esteem. So like the famous Goats Don't Shave song "Las Vegas in the Hills of Donegal", in the meantime we can dream of having Silicon Valley in the Glenelly Valley.

The Dead Poultry Society

2006-11-15T15:22:00.000Z

Kentucky Fried Chicken, that bastion of healthy organic free-range gourment cuisine is now apparently visible from space. Go up there in a satellite, position yourself at a certain spot above the Nevada desert and you’ll see the inanely grinning face of Colonel Sanders looking up at you. A pointless publicity stunt representing hell on earth as seen from space.

Muslim states will naturally be opposed to this. A man who made his fortune by giving the public a taste for naked legs and breasts is not exactly in the spirit of the Koran. It’s probably not halal in any case.
Thanks to Michael Castellon's blog for this. The comments are also worth reading.
So what next? A giant Mars bar visible from Mars?

Cultural earnings of Romania make not so glorious benefit for Glod

2006-11-12T19:25:00.000Z

Returning briefly to the Borat theme, I noticed an article in the Financial Times which reports that the inhabitants of Glod, an impoverished village in south-east Romania used as the location for the Kazakhstan TV reporter's home town are unhappy about the pittance they received to appear in the film which grossed £13m in its first weekend. Apparently most of the extras were paid only 4-5 euros for their trouble. Perhaps Romania's accession to the EU next year will have come too late for them.
Taking a wholly different view, the mayor of the local municipality was quoted as saying "They got paid, so I am sure they are happy. These gypsies will even kill their own father for money." Just like something Borat himself would say. A case of life imitating art?

Yet another tiresome reading from the Book of Genesis

2006-11-10T17:18:00.000Z

Genesis - the not so holy trinity of Collins, Rutherford and Banks - please don't turn it on again

No, this isn’t a rant about fundamentalist Christians who refuse to accept the theory of evolution or the Big Bang, but a reaction to the news that Genesis are about to go on tour again. Their shows will inevitably be a sell-out given that Collins, Rutherford and Banks the most successful of the band’s many line-ups are to reunite for the first time in 15 years, but I for one won’t be present. The idea of middle-aged rockers reforming to dwell on their past glories is not a particularly palatable one for me, even though the Rolling Stones have made it their stock in trade.

To his credit, Peter Gabriel, the original frontman with Genesis was “unavailable” for the tour. Unlike Phil Collins who based his solo career around vomit-inducing radio-friendly pop songs, Gabriel has gone from strength to strength as a serious artist and quality musician. He has experimented with a range of styles and helped bring world music to a new audience, draw attention to previously unknown artists such as as Senegalese musician Youssou N’Dour as well as campaigning for third world and human rights causes without the self-righteous arrogance of Bono or Geldof. While the remaining members of Genesis made their fortunes by selling out, Gabriel has refused to sacrifice his artistic integrity for the sake of money or popularity.

I suppose I’m being harsh on the Collins era Genesis here, but to be fair to them they did manage to produce the odd decent album like Invisible Touch. However in my opinion their finest hour was under Gabriel. It is remarkable that Gabriel left the band while still in his mid-20s, yet recorded four classic albums, Nursery Cryme, Foxtrot, Selling England by the Pound and The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway which inspired a whole generation of bands, notably Marillion. Gabriel’s Genesis belied a quintessentially English world of whimsy and eccentricity, a world explored by a number of other artists of the time, such as the late Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd, Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull and Ray Davies of the Kinks. Gabriel’s tales of giant killer plants, unscrupulous property developers, cockney gangsters fighting in forests and parallel worlds inhabited by strange creatures beneath the New York subway provided an early exposure of the creative genius he would later be renowned for. Some of these songs will no doubt be performed by Genesis on their forthcoming tour, but it just won’t be the same.

Bore-at: cultural earnings of America for make Sasha Baron Cohen a lot of money

2006-11-05T23:44:00.000Z

Is top cyclist and Peter Schmeichel lookalike Alexander Vinokourov in danger of losing
his status as Kazakhstan's greatest citizen to Borat?

On the strength of the film probably not.
Having been amused by the Borat TV show and seen the sparkling reviews in the press (most papers using the 5 star rating system awarded it 3 or 4 stars) I went to see this film in anticipation of a good time. However disappointment ensued.

The film sets out to be part mockumentary, part road movie, but ends up as little more than a collection of recycled sketches like an elongated version of the TV show. The jokes are largely predictable, and although the film would probably appeal more to someone unfamilar with the Ali G/Borat spoof interview format - it doesn't translate particularly well to the big screen

The opening scenes filmed somewhere in rural Romania not surprisingly portray Kazakhstan as a backwards nation of primitive Jew-baiting, incestuous misogynists rather than a confident oil and gas rich state which has successfully shaken off the chains of Soviet subjugation.

In the run-up to the film's release, a headline in one of the free London papers given out in the street read something to the effect of "Borat film causes uproar in Eastern Europe". A Financial Times columnist subsequently reacted to this error as if to confirm that few people really know where the place is let alone anything about it. It is therefore rich pickings for comic satire. However, to be pedantic a tiny portion of Kazakhstan lying west of the Ural River is technically in Europe. The national soccer team is a member of UEFA, the European football federation, and thus plays in the European section of the World Cup qualifiers. An unimportant piece of trivia, but there you go.

My main problem with the film is the difficulty of telling which parts are staged and which parts are for real - ie how many of the ordinary people Borat interviews are actually in on the joke? I suspect that most of the were.

Borat's initial arrival in America plays on the familiar theme of the yokel in the big city. He struggles to get to grips with an escalator and randomly greets total strangers in the street in scenes blatantly ripped off from Midnight Cowboy and Crocodile Dundee.

Baron Cohen as a Jewish comedian can get away with jokes others couldn't - jokes which sound anti-semitic to the uninitiated are in fact supposed to be post-modern irony - in the mould of another Jewish comedian Lenny Bruce who made ironic anti-PC jokes before political correctness had been invented. The scenes of the Running of the Jew with grotesque effigies of Jews with horns chasing Kazakhs in the mould of Pamplona's running of the bulls festival was particularly effective in this regard.
The film does have its moments. One scene at a rodeo where Borat as guest of honour mangles the American national anthem at a rodeo exposes bigotry of redneck Americans baying for blood. The homophobic rodeo manager advises him to shave off moustache so as to avoid looking like Islamic terrorist.

If anything the films has helped boost the profile of Kazakhstan, a country so little is known about and may even provoke a sense of curiosity for people to find out just how inaccurate Borat's depiction of the country is.

Baron Cohen himself is a notoriously secretive character who as far as I know has never appeared in public as himself. Now that his two main characters Ali and Borat have effectively blown their cover it will be interesting to see what he does next. He will no doubt be inundated with offers from top Hollywood producers to star in substandard films, but whether he accepts them is a different matter.

Sleepwalking towards an accidental surveillance society

2006-11-02T16:30:00.000Z

In an era of CCTV cameras on practically every street corner, medical records mysteriously disappearing and personal details being stored by various state and private sector organs on multiple databases in the digital age, the concept of an Orwellian “Big Brother” society is an increasingly popular talking point.
I presented a conference paper on the subject myself a couple of years ago.

What’s hit the headlines today is the publication by the UK’s Information Commission of a comprehensive report by a panel of experts on the surveillance society and how it is likely to develop in the future. The report reveals some potentially disturbing facts and figures.

According to the report there are an estimated 4.2 million closed-circuit TV cameras in the UK, one for every 14 people. It looks like Big Brother certainly is watching over us. There are of course good reasons for surveillance, but the question remains: to what extent is it effective in bringing about a safer society and is the loss of privacy a price worth paying?

Is the Blogosphere an iceberg?

2006-11-02T12:07:00.000Z

An article by Graham Lampa of Hamline University, St. Paul Minnesota reveals some interesting statistics about blogs. Of particular note is the fact allegedly discovered by a survey that two thirds of public blogs created via centralized hosting services have not been updated in two months and that 1.09 million of these have been labelled “one-day wonders” — blogs that were posted to once and have remained untouched since.

While we’re on the subject, a mini-furore erupted in the blogosphere last year when Blaise Cronin, Professor of Information Science at Indianna University wrote a scathing piece about bloggers.

Cronin writes:

“Some blogs are akin to pamphlets or broadsheets, others more like diaries or journals, while yet others function as a kind a community alerting or information sharing mechanism. Many genres and sub-genres can be identified. Admittedly, some blogs are highly professional, reliable and informative, but most are not.”

He’s obviously referring to a certain type of blog here, the sensationalist gossip column personal diary type blog which The Dreaming Arm is most certainly not (honest!). It’s probably fair to say that a lot of blogs are crap. When you’ve got hundreds of thousands if not millions of them out there, statistically speaking quite a few are going to be not very good.

He goes on to say:

“One wonders for whom these hapless souls blog. Why do they choose to expose their unremarkable opinions, sententious drivel and unedifying private lives to the potential gaze of total strangers? What prompts this particular kind of digital exhibitionism? The present generation of bloggers seems to imagine that such crassly egotistical behavior is socially acceptable and that time-honored editorial and filtering functions have no place in cyberspace. Undoubtedly, these are the same individuals who believe that the free-for-all, communitarian approach of Wikipedia is the way forward. Librarians, of course, know better.”

Needless to say many bloggers were unhappy with these comments. What you might call “blaising” a trail across the blogosphere.

I’m in the money………………..supposedly!

2006-10-27T12:08:00.000+01:00

Apparently I’ve just won some money without even having entered any competition or draw. Some guy calling himself Donald Van Oliver (possibly a gestalt life form who goes around stealing the molecules of celebrities and mixing their DNA – in this case Donald Duck, Van Morrison and Oliver Reed/Jamie Oliver?) has kindly notified me by e-mail that I’m eligible to receive €1,500,000.00 from the Dutch international lottery. They have a very clever way of picking the winner. I quote:

“The online cyberlotto draws was (sic)conducted from an exclusive list of 25,000 e-mail addresses of individual and corporate bodies picked by an advanced automated random computer search from the internet. No tickets were sold. After this automated computer ballot, your e-mail address emerged as one of two winners in the category.”

It seems like I’ve been very lucky over the last few months as I’m getting a lot of these prize-winning notifications. But, I’m in a generous mood and would rather donate my winnings to charity. Unless anyone out there would like to collect the cash on my behalf and donate it to a worthy cause of their choice?

Here’s the details:

Ref Number: PC 607 ES 208
Batch Number: 26371545-LNI/2006
Ticket Number: PCP 002 871

Just send an e-mai to clmoffc@aol.com, citing the above reference and I’m sure the cheque will be in the post within a few days. If not, then just keep bombarding him with e-mails and the odd virus and I’m sure you’ll eventually get your money.

Are we living in a bullshit society?

2006-10-20T18:20:00.000+01:00

Browse through the business or psychology section of any large bookshop and you’ll find a mulititude of titles on how to be an effective manager, how to improve your life in 293 easy stages, how to make the most of self-help books, how to sound clever by spouting meaningless management jargon, etc. ad nauseam. At a rough guess I’d estimate that 99% of these titles are pure unadulterated bullshit.

There are even extremely patronising books on topics like how to look things up on the internet, many of which end up as bestsellers for fuck’s sake!

As mentioned in a previous entry (shameless self-plug there!) I was once invited to attend a course on how to file paper and fork out £200 for the privilege! What is the world coming to?

We live in an age of bullshit terms like “knowledge management”, “benchmarking” and “human capital” invented by corporate wankers who think they’re being clever.

David Bolchover’s book The Living Dead skilfully riducules this type of crap, contemptuously describing such books as an expensive substitute for Andrex.

I have 2 theories on this:

(a) That the writers actually believe in what they say and want to tell the world how great their ideas are, or

(b) They know it’s bollocks, but also know they can make a lot of money by spouting it – as long as it’s full of modern jargon and stupid meaningless diagrams involving bullet points, arrows and boxes.

In modern times we have also seen the dumbing down of academia. Certain universities are now offering Mickey Mouse degrees like golf management, equine studies or used car salesmanship. These are all noble career pursuits in their own right, but do they really require 3 years of academic study as a substitute for serving a hands-on apprenticeship at a car showroom, stud farm or golf course?

Many graduates will end up as a call centre workers or bank clerks anyway – ie doing jobs they could have done straight after leaving school – so why not cut out the middle man and skip university altogether – think of all the debt you could avoid getting into. Earning money rather than watching daytime TV while nursing a hangover is surely more attractive proposition.

Adam Craig is spot-on in his article “Radically rethinking the purpose and operation of higher education” which examines this trend from an Australian perspective.

We also still have a lot of snobbery in education. A degree in 3-D computer game design from University College (formerly polytechnic) of East Grinstead is probably of more practical and economic use than a degree in ancient Assyrian literature from Boatrace College, Oxbridge, yet the latter institution will have more prestige. A graduate from the latter will potentially have contacts in high places and is likely to end up as merchant banker (deliberate use of rhyming slang there) or stockbroker, doing something which has absolutely nothing to do with their degree subject.

Bolchover’s book exposes the growing trend of employees getting paid to sit at a desk and pretend they’re working when in reality they’re doing sweet FA. This charge has been traditionally levelled at civil servants and other public sector workers. Northern IreIand readers, for example may be familiar with the popular joke that the Department of the Environment (DoE) is an abbreviation for “Dossers only Employed”. However Bolchover, drawing on his own personal experience attests that it’s equally rife in the private sector, particularly in big corporations where individual employees are effectively anonymous – cf Homer Simpson’s non-descript job as some kind of safety officer at Springfield’s nuclear power plant – very clever satire of corporate dishonesty and not as far-fetched as one might think.

Can sitting at a desk staring into a computer screen and taking the odd phone call for the best part of 8 hours a day really be classified as a professional white collar job that requires a university education? Surely one is better off in the open air laying bricks or mixing cement or in a salon styling someone’s hair. At least this is the real world – these employees may not enjoy the prestige or perks of the suited deskbound office worker, but at least they’re not deluding themselves and not indulging in meaningless buzz words like “capacity building” or “knowledge harvesting”

Am I alone in thinking this? Would anyone like to be back me up? Or disagree with me?

A New Kid on the Blog

2006-10-17T12:58:00.000+01:00

One of the Dreaming Arm’s regular commenters has decided to chance her (dreaming) arm and go solo. Lorainne’s new blog, the bizarrely named “Dippeting Grombie” is still very much in its infancy, having been born yesterday, but has plenty of potential to stimulate revoluntionary debate and ground-breaking ideas.

Good luck to the Dippeting Grombie. May your first lone foray into cyberspace (the final frontier?) be a fruitful one. Welcome to the blogosphere!

Scammers and Spammers

2006-10-15T18:56:00.000+01:00

Another kind offer of financial assistance from an apparently aggrieved African has arrived in my inbox. It’s the usual sob story, the typical dying benefactor bullshit – husband was ambassador in Sierra Leone, but now dead, left huge sum of money in a bank account somewhere which she wants to entrust to me for a small fee. It’s interesting to note that her e-mail address has a Slovakian domain name (atlas.sk). I used to receive these e-mails on a virtually weekly basis a couple of years ago when this type of thing was at its peak. I thought this sort of scam had had its day, but I suppose there’ll always be the odd chancer out there hoping that some gullible corporate employee will fall for their hoax.

A quick Google search of “Millicent Godwin”, the alleged name of my would-be donor reveals that the name is a regular one used by e-mail scammers. She’s been sending the same message to messsage boards and no doubt other individuals. Countless websites offer advice on how to deal with various unsolicited messages. Their main advice is to delete the e-mail. My approach is somewhat different. I reply to give the impression I trust them and keep the correspondence going for as long as possible, sticking in a few words of Irish here and there just to confuse them and basically see how far I can wind them up. It can be rather amusing.

England balk in the Balkans

2006-10-12T17:43:00.000+01:00

Although I’ve never been a regular reader of the Sun newspaper, I’ve always admired the talent its writers have to come up with ingenious headlines.

All the other teams from the (I won’t use the term “British Isles” as the Irish embassy will no doubt come down on me like a tonne of bricks for use of inappropriate terminology) were in action last night and I’ve come up with some of my own headlines:

Kollar keeps Irish in Czech
Rep. of Ireland Kollard’d by Czech equalizer
Kilbane goal Duffed up by Czech reply

Rumours of Tartan Army comeback are Scotched
Scotland kept under lock and Kiev

Northern Ireland find Latvia’s Achilles Healy (I’ll get my coat)

With the news of a new species of mouse discovered in Cyprus, the headline for Wales’ victory over the Cypriots might be “Of mice and men”

Maybe readers have further suggestions for headlines?

A fragile peace In Bosnia

2006-10-12T17:21:00.000+01:00

Following the recent elections in Bosnia Hercegovina it appears that there has been an increase in sectarian tensions. I was somewhat disturbed to hear via A Few Euros More that a grenade was fired at a mosque in Mostar on Tuesday 10th October causing substantial damage. It is believed the act was carried out in retaliation for the desecration of a Catholic cemetery.

As regular readers will know, I visited Mostar during the summer while on a two-week tour of the Balkans. It's a beautiful charming place with the rebuilt old bridge and quaint bazaar-style market place. It seemed calm and peaceful despite the obvious scars of war which lie all around. The front line of the war, one of the city's main thoroughfares is lined on either side with bombed-out buildings pockmarked with bullet holes, yet the local people have demonstrated an amazing resilience. Life has got back to normal in Mostar and the Balkans in general. Tourism seems to have taken off. Churches and mosques rub shouldrers, although it seems it seems there is still an uneasy peace about the region. For the sake of the people of Bosnia of whatever religion or ethnic group, who have suffered unimaginable horrors I sincerely hope this is a one-off incident and not the start of something bigger.

As a commentator on A Few Euros More has remarked:
“The basic question hasn't been answered. How do you set up a democratic sovereign state if you are not sure you'll get a majority for its existence among the citizens?”

It’s not an easy question.

“Miss, can I use the ‘C’ Word?”

2006-10-11T16:22:00.000+01:00

The Dreaming Arm is pleased to present its first contribution from a guest writer. Lorainne, a trainee teacher from North London has been a regular contributor to the comments section over the last few months. In this piece she recounts her experiences in the classroom.

If any other readers would like to submit a guest article for publication please send your contributions or ideas to ciaranward@hotmail.com. They can be on any topic, but please keep them brief!

“Miss, can I use the ‘C’ Word?”

“Er…..no. No C word and no F word. Only mild swearing allowed please.”

I am assisting the teacher in a class full of 14 year old boys. It is an English lesson and the aim is to get them to write something, anything that could be considered a creative response to J D Salinger’s novel Catcher in the Rye. The book is about an angry dysfunctional teenager and they are scripting an imaginary conversation between the main character and his friend.

“So can I say ‘bastard’ miss?”

I am training to become an English teacher of 11-18 year olds. The majority of my time is spent in a school taking classes belonging to qualified teachers. However I am officially a full time student receiving a training bursary rather than a salary, and am required to attend university now and again to remind myself of this fact.

School is something most people have experienced either for good or ill, so virtually everyone has an opinion on my career choice. I am regularly asked

“Why the hell do you want to spend most of your working day trying to inspire a love of literature in a bunch of badly behaved unwilling children?”

I sometimes reply with a question:

“Why the hell do you want to have a meaningless existence sitting in front of a computer all day helping some unscrupulous corporation make profit?”

Since graduating I have spent most of my 20’s working in publishing and in recruitment. I have enjoyed it. However I think I could be doing something more useful. I miss the intellectual challenge of being involved in education. I loved being a student. I was no angel at school myself so am prepared to deal with difficult behaviour. As an old woman of just turned 30 I actually feel much happier being around teenagers rather than in an office amongst some cynical jaded, miserable adults who are doing a job they hate.

“Teachers!! Bloody part timers. I bet you are just doing it for the long holidays and 3.30 finishes”

“Well of course not!!! Not really. Well…perhaps that was a small consideration…..”

Quote of the Day

2006-10-09T21:24:00.000+01:00

"Everyone should pull their finger out and start a business and to believe in themselves. There is nothing else to it. Anyone can make a £100m. But most people don't go out and try. They just stand in the pub and complain."

Duncan Bannatyne, entrepreneur and owner of Bannatynes health clubs chain quoted in the Guardian

Food for thought.