http://www.divshare.com/download/6137985-a96

Every so often a song sums up a particular time. This doesn't even come close to doing so but nonetheless.

Quite a time has passed. I will get around to writing down my tour experiences in the next few weeks. So many stories crammed into a short amount of time.

For now I just want to write down the last thirty something hours have been nothing short of epic. Last night I couldnt sleep so I watched sword films. (Yes films with swords in them). Before this I did however do something constructive. I went a-wandering and played with slow exposures by the canal. I like the results.




It has been a weird day, but it has been a good day.

So much has happened in the last two months. I am not confident in my ability to convey it or even record it in this medium.

I will eventually come back to this.
In brief I am fitter happier and doing better than ever before. Comedy Soc finally did what it could do.I have my own radio show that I want to care about. I am going on tour in 10 days. America elected a president, I found a career option, I enjoyed myself and I only see good on the horizon.

Shop Queues and Cowards in Uniform

So far my posts on this blog have been celebratory or at least positive. I've written about things that were great and part of the reason I wanted to write about them was to retain the good feeling that came from them.

Tonight I'm writing about two experiences that were far from pleasant. The first occurred this morning just after eleven in the shop across from Trinity. I was in the queue to pay for my sandwich. There were two tills open and the queue was short. Being served was that particular denizen of Dublin that we all know. Barely five feet tall but a full 4 feet wide, dragged back greasy hair, the type of face is swollen rather than jowled, awful dark stained teeth and reeking of the curious mix of stale smoke and alcohol that pervades alleys throughout the city centre. Clad in a baby blue scania jacket with gold necklaces on display and multiple sovereign rings on either hand. She wasn't homeless but she wasn't far off it.

As the man (he was dark-skinned, not african but a dark East Asian I think) serving her was passing her her change he dropped it. This she did not take kindly too. She started a rather bizarre tirade of abuse that was to descend to sickening levels. First of all she took umbridge with the fact that her change had not been placed in her grubby hands. She started shouting "there is no need to fling it at me, trying to avoid the slightest of touches*" then there was a pause. Normally ,I reckon, this could be put down to a bad morning or something equally mundane. What I found odd was how the two suited men in front of me both moved out of the queue and came around to the far side of the incident and started queuing from a different direction. This pause lasted no more than 4 or five seconds as the "woman" scooped up her change she launched into a tirade of abuse based on the fact the server hadn't touched her. She screamed, spittle flying, that she didn't have aids and that "it wasnt the likes of her that brought aid to this country". To my dismay the server just accepted this (obviously he could hardly hit her the wallop that she deserved while wanting to keep his job). She ket shouting at him, telling him that it was people like him, people his colour that brought AIDS in, that were stealing and taking jobs (ironic seeing as despite the obvious working class moniker, i doubt she had worked a day in her life). I was seething and couldn't understand why the 5 people witnessing this said nothing. So me being me I told her to stop. "Ah cop on to yourself and don't speak to people like that" were the first words out of my mouth. I was told swiftly by this specimen of human garbage to mind my own business. Telling her that it was people like her that gave Irish people a bad name didn't sit well with her as she then turned the abuse on me. I was compared to substances unmentionable and asked "did i speak to my wife like that?". Laughing in her face didn't seem to make this decrepit example of society any calmer as she screamed louder and shriller about how I was picking on her because I was big. Reiterating the fact that I didn't care about her or her opinion and how she was a pathetic excuse for a person (exact words) didn't help either. As I paid for my breakfast with abuse still being hurled at me from the far side of the ice cream freezer I apologised for her behaviour to the server. His casual dismissal of the incident saddens me as he seemed to say it was nothing and it wasn't an isolated occasion. Leaving the shop now with taunts and threats being spat at me from the pathway outside it was this that made me saddest. Why should he have to put up with that abuse? Why did three clearly professional people ignore the incident and say nothing? Why did nobody else sand up to her?

*more like - "dere is nmo mneed do flin it a' me,tryin do advoid de slihetest dtouch"

Sadly if people don't stand up to people and actions like this they become commonplace and casual. This is not okay. The people who say nothing are contributing to the problem just as much as the despicable individual responsible for the attack in the first place. I think people need to stand up for themselves and others more often and not let things like this happen. While I think racist jokes are funny, racism isn't. The only way you can joke about things like this is if you find actual racism absurd.



The second thing happened to me was as I was leaving college this evening. Passing out through the gate onto Pearse Street I turned right to cross Westland Row to get a train from the station. As I was crossing I looked down the line of approaching traffic. Three or four cars down was marked Garda patrol car with it's indicator signalling to turn left. With the traffic lights against them they came around the corner and saw me. I was halfway across the road, crossing with a green pedestrian light. They slowed and then stopped. I looked at them and then up at the light which was still red against them. As I got closer to the kerb they inched slowly around the corner against the lights with no siren. I turned back around to see them do this. The driver slowed and then just continued around the corner. All the while I was being stared down by the Garda driving. In his attempt to intimidate me he had missed that on the centre island was a lady with buggy and a toddler who only seconds before had stepped out of the way of his car so that he could get around the corner 20 seconds faster. The situation then took a slight sinister turn as the Garda then slowed to a crawl and leaned over to keep eye contact with me as he attempted to stare me down. He had to lean low and across his partner who was also staring at me. Slowing to a near stop he seemed to signal to me with a flick of his hand and a shrug of his shoulders with an air of menace. Body language screaming out"what are you going to do about it" he smirked and drove off.

His behaviour and the general attitude he was broadcasting smacks of an ignorant, bully boy tactic that I have never experienced in Gardaí before. I really understand now why my friend refers to them as "the cowards in unifrom".


I refuse to let incidents and individuals like this get me down. I am taking the positives from both situations. In an odd way both situations are similar where someone attempts to intimidate someone else and get away with actions that aren't really acceptable. I, for one, didnt want to take it and luckily for me I am difficult to intimidate physically or verbally. It just irks me that these actions are common.

Real Dark makes the light seem brighter. That and music.

Its close on midnight and I have five hours of work still ahead of me, but this night is just magic.

The shoot location is so perfect. Its a small church that I know I have driven past dozens of times over the course of my lifetime but have never been in before. It is truly lovely. The darkness outside is that certain kind of darkness that doesn't have any light in it. Hidden from the city glare by the little sugar loaf the place is wonderfully dark outside. The stars look so clear and I really want to get out of Dublin's lightcast soon to see this again.
Inside is one of the best lighting set ups I have ever seen with the walls looking twice the size they are because of the shadows. Often I am aware of taking too many photos and tonight I am happy the cameras are at home.

My real point to this post,other than to pass the time on what is technically a "lunchbreak" at half eleven at night, is in the crew truck we were watching Stevie Wonder on Johnathon Ross. After seeing Sigur Ros and My Bloody Valentine at the Electric Picnic I proudly and confidently told anyone willing to listen that I have now seen everyone I really really want to see live. This is not true though. The incredible Stevie Wonder was on Johnathon Ross and I am so very determined to see him. Whats great about this is that as soon as I do see him I know I will remember there is someone else left to see.

but just on a wonderful night in the mountains, despite my need for sleep, I am pleased to remember there is still loads to see.

Three (now 4) posts in one day

The sudden rush of posts is only intended to get rid of the things I wanted to say over the last few days in one swoop. I don't think I'll keep that level of activity up.

The Electric Picnic 2008

Forever in Electric Dreams

5am buses,playlists,jaffa cakes,roadsigns,laughing gardaí,the first view,waving civil defence,chaff underwheel,the potential, tents, smells, grass, queues and other queues, wristbands, that little bit of apprehension over bottles, scottish accents, hefting, seeing, choosing a space, old friends,"where are you?", introductions, new friends, immediate help and bonding, tent poles and clips, the first sign of wasps, co-operation given and unbidden, soundchecks,that first drink,granola bars, one last run to the car, leaving it unlocked, toilet paper padding, wandering, old faces arriving, grins and helping hands, bing-bong...bong-bing, people, cups, keeping the last few spaces, done?lets go. Bingo, boats, please, checks and queues, clouds ominous but patient, ne'er a hard word, surprise friends, body and soul,cello friends, grassen seats, times that can't be true, phones, dancing, supping, happy matador bulls, dragons, new hugs, the smile of a person knowing not what to expect and the wry smiles of those that do, that particular expression when one knows they are dancing like a flipping idiot but not one person thinks that of them, looks and like, the can can, strained sounds of other worlds, and suddenly children, trees and doors, jumps and carousal, dropped drinks and knocked drinks but no matter, excitement building, tiny friendly faces masked by happiness, this way, that way, one shoe, no shoes, realisation, acoustic hip hop,more friends by a gazebo,balloons, rumours and remembered faces, seats with no rules, passing it left, spares, first hopplandic songs wafting on the air, mojitos from a pirrouheting glass,next ones, snow and new cups, painting on giant letters, the temple where nothing is ever forgotten because it cannot last long enough to do so,darkness comes a-falling, fairylike rock, one last step, one last reach and the fence, waiting, "hello-whats-your-name?" smiles, giddiness, the first sign of cameras signals what is waited for, formal attire, icelandic blondes, feathers and bows, sound, old memories that still hurt,desired noise power, hope, love, loss, tears, cheers, shielded real worlds, friends of friends, signals, purity, breathless moves, frantic reaching for that unreachable essence, men in white suits, brass and strings, a voice that is not there, fading, drum skins beautiful for they are beaten and bruised, setlist, goodbyes. Sleep and wanderings. Trees with raves, falling but unhurt, tents, tea, sights, a bicycle unrideable, sleep beckoning. Actimel, fruit, hangovers and excitement, ablutions in a field, breakfast in a paintball arena, flushing toilets,good mornings everywhere,trodden grass,transformers, mojitos, a brand new day, funk and fun, luminous jackets, pretend confiscations, silliness and happiness, dancing, mud, regretless nights, dancing to flames, dancing to nothing,eyelashes, seeing those who will be there, sitting in a tree again, dancing to a painted man with a saxophone, a stranded boat, found whisky,vinnie my old friend, pizza from a bus, all bartered for, job opportunities for those who will look, time spinning away, settling for sleep, cramps and hydration, morning once more, the sun spits her love, mooncups, german wasps,tax, death and all sorts of conversations, bingo, festivor, JAMIE, flags and trees, sunshine, mixes, noodles and soul, one last truth, ears assaulted, songstress and love, rain threatening as night claims the picnic once more, people flying through the air, death of a night, fires, the beautiful people, blankets, the flame of a split tree giving us back the energy of the sun, towards the silent excuberance, spitting then raining then something to say that somewhere someone was angry, then to truth aflame, slowly slowly but burning brightly and fully once more. Crashing back to the ground now damp with what fell, souls restored we fall too. Slowly home, slowly sleep. The world turns faster now as the end nears. Goodbyes on the walk. Slowly the site grows quieter. Then morning reclaims us. The real world wants us back. Fighting to the end we hold close this feeling and leave a little piece of us still in the Stradbally. Wheels spin and struggle but soon all are free. the last of the music says it all. Tiny dancers sing and the real world reclaims us and we pass through that gate in our heads. Breakfast is debated. One last song that was never played on the drive for it plays still in my head. For like Mic said this is the way we can go. The foolish game we play. One last time we eat together and smile.


Then home to real homes and times turn to memories. Soon the feeling will dissolve only to be distilled again.

David Best's Temple of Truth, Electric Picnic 2008

It was scheduled to burn at midnight in memory of and in forgiveness for those who took their own lives. It was delayed several times until finally it was set as 2am burn time.

I sat down on a barrel bin at about half one waiting and setting my spot to see it burn. Me being me I had left the tents earlier that evening without my rain jacket or a poncho. First time all weekend I had done that. So predictably it got cold as the night went on. In my usual form I decided against trekking all the way back and instead bought a woolen blanket. This was fine cos it was still dry. However as I sat on the barrel the first drops started to fall, soon it was monsoon like weather and the blanket weighed twice what it did with the water.

The rain was heavy enough to keep the flames small and it took some time for the temple to catch fire properly. After twenty minutes of uncertainty the flames reached the second storey and started burning properly. Still it was a further 25 minutes before the fire really won out. When it did a sectin of the lower leg gave way and the entire temple flared up and collapsed in a flaming wreck. The temple that had looked out on the magic of the last few days was lying burnt and broken on the ground. The end of the festival had come.

Emotions made me fight to stay to the bitter end of the temple while the rain bucketed down on us. Sodden but defiant I wasn't going anywhere until the temple was down. When it did fall, I actually unerstood why it was built and why it had to burn. It really was quite stunning to see the messages, that had piled up on small pieces of wood and were scratched into every available surface, burn away.

I was sleepily lying on my sofa on the tuesday after we got back and there was a documentary about David Best, the man who designs and builds these temples and has done so for the past few years for burning man. He said something very powerful and meaningful when he was addressing his workers out on the playa in Nevada's desert. I can't capture what he said properly here but he made the point that the more the world wants to stop these works of art, and the more difficult their construction and burning is made; the more meaningful it is. The heavier the rock we carry, the greater the release when it is left behind. For him the huge windstorms that make his job so hard out on the playa are part and parcel of the process. I think we aw a little of that at the Electric Picnic in Stradbally this year. The rain held off all weekend, and only when the burning was imminent did the heavens open, but burn it did.

Starting to use this blog again

I think there comes a time when everyones brain must feel like it is near full. When it feels like there is nothing left to learn about things. This is not a good time, but it is a good time to do something about it. At the moment there is a frantic scramble around me as friends start new magazines while others run to print on others.College newspapers take up huge chunks of colleagues time. I have old friends who are leaving these shores for further courses in music, radio and art. I have theatre driven friends and those who can't stop taking photographs. In college the scramble is hotting up for Freshers' week with talk of events, recruitment and endless promotion. All this creativity seems to have passed me by.

I can't help feeling a little lost amongst all this. I feel like I have been cast adrift and am not quite sure I held on to anything tight enough. So this is my try at leaving some small body of evidence that I am still around.

Format and content are not my premier concern here as is obvious from previous ramblings. Its the thought that counts. Intention can change so many things and there is nothing but the best of intentions here.

This I found online instead of studying and it really sums up what is going on in my head at the moment.

Yesterday after being asked by my mother whether my little (I say little but he isn't) brother was now taller than me (which he isn't) I measured myself, and I am now 6'5". I'm still growing, gulp.

In other news I have only two exams left. This makes me happy. The fact that my results are out on the 16th of June has led to some panic however because if the exams don't go well my entire Summer will be ruined. How bloody inconsiderate of my department.

Buying a Moleskine

They are undoubtedly the best notebooks available to man. So I'm excited about July which is when it will become useful seeing as it is an 18 month diary running from July 2008 till December 2009.

This was the good part of my day this morning.

The bad part stems from the general fact that I am resident in the library at the moment attempting to cram 8 months of work into one very short 3 week period. This is my own fault and this isn't even my major bugbear.
There are only a limited amount of desks in the basement (which is where I like to study) and they are in high demand. So when I arrived at 9.22 this morning most of the desks were occupied. So I wander down the length of the library to find that one girl had spread her possessions over 6 desks in order to "save" them for her friends. So obviously her stuff was compacted to 5 desks and I sat down. She then came over to tell me (in her whiny whiny voice) that the desk i was now sitting at was taken she got short shrift from me and packed up her things and went. So now here I sit procrastinating in the library and attempting to study. Almost seems worth getting up early just to antagonise some first year.

To Clarify

This is where I live. It is about an hour from Trinity College Dublin where I "study".
The commute is the bane of my existence. I am just too far away to commute with ease but I am close enough that I am un-willing to get a loan to pay for rent etc.

The journey is usually just over an hour but the transport system is not exactly geared as efficiently as I would like it to be, with no late night transport at all from the city centre except on Fridays and Saturdays and a timetable that suits business hours only.(and yes I understand that suits other people, but not me)

So for close on three hours a day (factoring in waiting times and the distance between home and train station) I am plugged into my ipod/reading or writing/ staring out a window.

Why?

College exams are looming and the pressure is supposed to be mounting, but it refuses to. So procrastination is the key. This is my long over-due foray into the world of archiving the silly things I discover, think and experience online for all the world (or nobody) to see.