Dubya was uncharacteristically candid in this speech...
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
I have just realised...
...that Blogger does not permit anonymous commenting from readers.
That's rather a pain.
That's rather a pain.
Liveline (Or Bedlam FM)
Today's title is shamelessly plagiarised from Ian O' Doherty's column in the Indo last Friday.
For those unfortunate to listen in today to the latest audio instalment of Jwooaahh "guddaftahnewentooyew" Duffeh's little exercise in pseudo-impartiality, where he pretends to be fair and even handed while continually interrupting anyone whom he disagrees with in deference to whoever is in the ascendent that day, I apologise in advance for the following image, which I couldn't get out of my head all afternoon.
I don't know what's worse, my lamentable photoshop skillz, or the way it looked in my imagination.
The Liveline Studio, shortly before today's show.
Listening to this arrogant harridan rattle on today, makes Samantha Mumba (she of the infamous "Barbie's Granny" quip) rise a little in my estimation.
Just a little, mind.
For those unfortunate to listen in today to the latest audio instalment of Jwooaahh "guddaftahnewentooyew" Duffeh's little exercise in pseudo-impartiality, where he pretends to be fair and even handed while continually interrupting anyone whom he disagrees with in deference to whoever is in the ascendent that day, I apologise in advance for the following image, which I couldn't get out of my head all afternoon.
I don't know what's worse, my lamentable photoshop skillz, or the way it looked in my imagination.
The Liveline Studio, shortly before today's show.
Listening to this arrogant harridan rattle on today, makes Samantha Mumba (she of the infamous "Barbie's Granny" quip) rise a little in my estimation.
Just a little, mind.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Ireland's Fall
Disclaimer: If you're as sick and tired of the rugby shenanigans of the last two weeks as Celia Larkin is of publicly propping up her ex boyfriend's financial rectitude, close your browser and have a cup of tay, or poke the Significant Other in the ribs while throwing a flirtatious wink in their direction. You might be glad you did.
Lads, as far as I'm concerned, Ireland's participation in the RWC amounts to about another eighty minutes of ramshackle incoherent display. I don't think I'm alone in that view.
The burden of blame has been placed on a few shoulders over the last 14 days, and the hunt for a hapless scapegoat was on before the final whistle blew against Namibia in Bordeaux.
The French media were their usual inconsistent selves, with such curtain twitching moments such as the multiple mistresses of a departed president barely meriting a line in a back page article, while unsubstantiated (although very persistent) rumours surrounding an Irish out half, and chasing errant British royals into concrete crash barriers around Paris become the subject of a veritable crusade by the Fourth Estate.
ROG in the dressing room, on Friday evening.
The IRFU got it in the chin too, for granting O' Sullivan another four years of meaningful labour, presumably on the back of the Six Nations campaign, and without consideration for the looming World Cup tournament.
Trevor Brennan, in the IT, tried to blame Phil Coulter's (admittedly more cheesy than Wensleydale) ditty, Ireland's Call, for failing to fire up the team, while blatantly ignoring the reasoning behind such a song's necessity in the first place.
EOS, for his part, has blamed referee decisions, lineout malfunctions, and lacks the balls to publicly admit to the shortcomings of Ireland's World Cup Campaign.
Storm clouds gather for Eddie O' Sullivan
All these people are wrong.
The team has in essence started to believe their own hype. Paradoxically, the Six Nations successes hindered, rather than helped the long term viability of O' Sullivan's merry men.
The team lacks any coherence. As the GAA boys would probably say, "They pulled hard lads, but they were pullin' agin' one another"
The team has been together in more or less the same form for four years now. It has stagnated as a result and some of the inevitable calls for new blood are justifiable.
That said, I'm probably wrong too. The difference is that my mistakes have smaller consequences.
Lads, as far as I'm concerned, Ireland's participation in the RWC amounts to about another eighty minutes of ramshackle incoherent display. I don't think I'm alone in that view.
The burden of blame has been placed on a few shoulders over the last 14 days, and the hunt for a hapless scapegoat was on before the final whistle blew against Namibia in Bordeaux.
The French media were their usual inconsistent selves, with such curtain twitching moments such as the multiple mistresses of a departed president barely meriting a line in a back page article, while unsubstantiated (although very persistent) rumours surrounding an Irish out half, and chasing errant British royals into concrete crash barriers around Paris become the subject of a veritable crusade by the Fourth Estate.
ROG in the dressing room, on Friday evening.
The IRFU got it in the chin too, for granting O' Sullivan another four years of meaningful labour, presumably on the back of the Six Nations campaign, and without consideration for the looming World Cup tournament.
Trevor Brennan, in the IT, tried to blame Phil Coulter's (admittedly more cheesy than Wensleydale) ditty, Ireland's Call, for failing to fire up the team, while blatantly ignoring the reasoning behind such a song's necessity in the first place.
EOS, for his part, has blamed referee decisions, lineout malfunctions, and lacks the balls to publicly admit to the shortcomings of Ireland's World Cup Campaign.
Storm clouds gather for Eddie O' Sullivan
All these people are wrong.
The team has in essence started to believe their own hype. Paradoxically, the Six Nations successes hindered, rather than helped the long term viability of O' Sullivan's merry men.
The team lacks any coherence. As the GAA boys would probably say, "They pulled hard lads, but they were pullin' agin' one another"
The team has been together in more or less the same form for four years now. It has stagnated as a result and some of the inevitable calls for new blood are justifiable.
That said, I'm probably wrong too. The difference is that my mistakes have smaller consequences.
His Mime Was Up
Pray silence please, for the passing of the larger than life mime artist, Marcel Marceau.
M. Marceau, in typically ebullient form, some time ago.
M. Marceau, in typically ebullient form, some time ago.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Nudge...
Begosh and Begorrah, it's been a while.
They say talking to yourself is one of (if not the definitive) first signs of madness, so judging by the page views this unloved and obscure little corner of the web has seen to date, the bus to the rubber room should be pulling up outside any minute now...
Ah well, I was never one to care about the opinions of others, even if they do come equipped with a letter of committal, or a search warrant.
I'll post more later when my meds kick in...
They say talking to yourself is one of (if not the definitive) first signs of madness, so judging by the page views this unloved and obscure little corner of the web has seen to date, the bus to the rubber room should be pulling up outside any minute now...
Ah well, I was never one to care about the opinions of others, even if they do come equipped with a letter of committal, or a search warrant.
I'll post more later when my meds kick in...
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