Monday, November 22, 2010

Here is the news:

I live in Limerick.

Here is a year-old article about something going on in Limerick that was in the Village magazine. I haven't seen it covered anywhere else and I think it's of interest. It's followed by something more recent I read in the Phoenix, both articles illustrate the way things seem to work around here:

Village Magazine - Issue 8, December 2009 - January 2010:

Nepotism in Limerick

"
Closer to home, Villager was amused to see John Fitzgerald, former City Manager in Dublin getting himself and the Limerick Regeneration Agency, headed by former Dublin City Housing Manager, Brendan Kenny, in hot water for indulging nepotism to the serious displeasure of Limerick City Manager, Tom Mackey.

Kenny employed his daughter on a large salary without bothering with anything as tedious as an inter- view process.

Claire Feeney, girlfriend of Southside Director, Brendan Hayden, was recruited on a salary of 90,000 without competitive interview. she had no third- level or other relevant qualification.

And Brian McElligott, son of Regeneration Agency Director, Liam McGelligott was recruited in Autumn 2007 without competitive interview. He had no third-level or other relevant qualification, thought the agency is now paying his way through a University of Limerick project-management course.

Fitzgerald noted that the Limerick Regeneration Agency didn't have to comply with normal public-sector norms.

Funny then that this is the same John Fitzgerald who so rigorously - including with the benefit of a fat legal opinion -hounded residents' representatives on the Grangegorman Development Agency (which he also chairs) to comply with normal company law. They were not to report back to the communities that chose them but to observe the niceties of company law - i.e. silence.

Fitzgerald reckons the Limerick agencies' boards are "not boards of governance". ..."
Mad isn't it? Even madder that nobody said squat about it apart from the Village, but at least Tom Mackey is here to point out corruption... But wait a minute, just while we're still in Limerick and having a look at what people get away with, check this out,(from Phoenix magazine, Nov 5 2010 p.16 beyond the pale by 'Goldhawk'):


" Rosemary's Limerick Garden.

The Limerick post got on to an intriguing story recently about leafy Hillcrest Drive,off the Ennis Rd where residents complained that a house built in the back garden of a residence there had not complied with planning permission. But this simple planning story had more than one twist in it.

Angry residents complained that while none of them could get planning permission for minor alterations down the years, the owner of 24 Hillcrest Drive had built a new house in the back garden in a substantial alteration of the planning permission recieved. The residents also complained that their entreaties to local councillors had not resulted in any serious attention. However following complaints to Limerick City Council, the planning control office sent a warning letter to the owners of the property and this prompted an application for retention of the alterations. Which is where it got really interesting.
At a meeting of the council last March, Labour councillor Tom Shortt drew attention to the fact that the applicant was an employee of the council. Shortt also complained that the retention application was not listed on the council meeting agenda he had recieved and that the relevant documentation was missing. The Post described how the relevant pages were also missing from the agenda it supplied to its journalist covering the council meeting.


Then it emerged, as the local Post sleuths discovered, that the application had been made by Mary Fitzgerald, an employee in the rates department and before that the planning department.


More recently the Post returned to the story and reported that despite the dramatic new precedent set for the estate by the back garden edifice, An Bord Pleanala had upheld what the newspaper described as a contentious application. The board stated that the building would not seriously injure the local amentities and was not contrary to popular planning and sustainable development in the area.

This was despite the recommendation of the board's inspector, Conor McGrath, who had stated the opposite, namely that the proposed development would be out of character with the surrounding pattern of development, would result in over-development and was detrimental to the residential amenities of future residents.

Enraged residents complained to such authorities as Environmental Minister John Gormley, who replied that the issue was outside his remit, while there are plans for further protests.

Howeverwhile poor Rosemary was forced to respond to the Post's enquiries - she said that "the proper channels" had been used - the newspaper did not name the other resident of the property. Goldhawk can reveal that this is Pat Dowling, one of the council's three directors of services and deputy to the City manager, Tom Mackey. Dowling is married to Rosemary and lives with her at Hillcrest Drive. However, Ms Fitzgerald/Dowling was the sole applicant. Dowling just lives there with his spouse, Rosemary."


I don't normally do that much politics, ( because A: I know I'm not as well informed as I should be, and B: It depresses the hell outa me) but here are two instances that are clearly intelligible instances of pretty sharp practice, so even I have to ask once in a while: What's going on? and how come they get away with it? Answers on a postcard please...

Winging it.


I dont have a telly in the gaff, and y'know what that means: I get a lot more done with my days but when I'm in company I have no idea what anybody's talking about half the time.

 Now and then I get to play 'pop-cultural catch-up' via boxed sets. In a way, boxed sets are probably a bit like cheating. These programmes are designed to be consumed with waiting period of a week between episodes and a year between seasons... There is a lot more to be gotten from the classic cliffhanger if the whole thing isn't solved instantly by FF-ing past the end credits and opening credits. Then again the boxed set method does keep ads out of the house. (Nobody should have advertising in their home, remind me to elaborate someday).

The boxed set also lends itself to the video marathon, a show (that's any good) will, of course, leave you feeling 'just one more episode...I know it's half past three in the morning but I have to know what happens'. its so engaging , so convenient, no ads just story and all you need to do is press 'PLAY' 

Theirin lieth the probellum- for Boxed sets can eat your soul and destroy your will to live.

Case in point, I have just recently been liberated from the burden of The West Wing, (all seven seasons in a dox beluxe version that came in a bogs dollocks).

Released you say? Burden? Yes. Yes, That's what I say and that's what I think.



It was a welcome burden and by the time my release date came I was well into an advanced stage of Stockholm Syndrome  but still I was 'released' and it was a 'burden', and I shall never be able to fully explain what happened to me back there.

man.

Now I do get to witness telly occasionally, and some time over the past ten years I must have been somewhere where the West Wing was on, but all I ever seemed to see was people hastily walking around corridors and talking too fast about things I didn't understand so... y'know... why bother trying to play catch-up?

The boxed set is an entirely different proposition. No reason to miss a single part. Watch it and know it and be part of it in its entirety, be the Wing! Well no not quite. Fact is I never got the West Wing first time 'round: I wasn't there, it was just another shared cultural experience I missed out on, (like Italia 90') but this was at least as near to 'being the wing' as a snotty nosed come-lately such as meself could expect.

And what shall I say of the wing?

1. Nobody told me it was a soap. It is y'know, it's a soap opera. A very good soap mind you but a soap nonetheless.

2. I can see why it won awards, it's a very good bit of telly and it does explain things at the same time. It explains things in a very simplistic way but that's what's best for the target audience: myself included.

3. The characters are all ridiculously naive and idealistic, but thank god. You couldn't be looking at disillusioned political hacks week in and week out.

4. It runs for so many episodes that it feels more real than a real presidency. I now have a real and clear concept of the Bartlet administration; one that's far more concrete than my idea of the Reagan era or Bush or any of them. 

5. I bet it helped Obama get in.

6. The bombastic title music does not lend itself to boxed set consumption. Snuffy you annoy me.




Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Somethin' from a long time ago : Part Four

they all huddle in a circle with a pack of cards ... simultaneously Bedboy begins to masturbate



David Thewlis;
Oh go on then


Micheal Caine:
Okay , what’ve we got? What’ve we got?


They all fan out enormous hands of cards wich they study carefully.


James Stuart;
Well ..uh lemme see here uh ...there’s that foreign girl, in the newsagents.


David Thewlis;
Filthy little minx

Robert Shaw;
Eyes you could swim in, and an arse as round and as tight as a drum...

Micheal Caine:
Okay, anyone else?

David Thewlis;
That red-haired one.

Micheal Caine:
What's her name?

David Thewlis;
I dunno but you remember her, she stopped in the street and clasped two books between her thighs while she took off her jumper.

All;
(enthusiastic murmurs of assent)

Robert Shaw;
Tara O’Neill ! (all pause. shocked)

James Stuart;
Tara O’Neill? She must be like sixteen if she’s a day
Robert Shaw;
No-one will ever know

Micheal Caine:
Well just for age balance then, Ciaras’ mum.

James Stuart;
Oh yeah it’s always the mother though- never the daughter I mean he went out with the daughter.

David Thewlis;
Okay then both!

Robert Shaw;
shagging each other with a strap on!(they all look at him)

Micheal Caine:
I like it!

They now play a game like ‘snap’ in tandem with the masturbatory act which takes place in ‘the bed’ with increasing momentum .When the last card is slapped down- Bedboy climaxes They all freeze, and then breath a sigh of relief.

Micheal Caine:
(noticing the last card)Wait a minute , what’s this? (he holds it up)
James Stuart
; what exactly have you got there friend?

David Thewlis;
That’s the fucking dream girl!
(pause)
Robert Shaw;
so she slipped through the net did she?

They all adopt poses of extreme disconsolation
James Stuart;
Slipped through but I don’t understand, I mean we saw the cards ... I mean how could’ve..

David Thewlis;
The fucking subconscious that’s how.
Robert Shaw;
The blind leviathan of the bottomless deep that shadows our vessel ..and waits.
Micheal Caine:
Okay
I think,
we are all in agreement
we have a serious problem here.
A serious problem
That requires serious action ,now
I suggest
We ring a bird
Okay with everyone?


David Thewlis;
I don’t give a fuck what he does - it wont make a fucking difference will it?- that is what we are in the act of discovering is it not?.
Nothing makes a fucking difference!


James Stuart
; Who’re you gonna ring?

Micheal Caine:
I don’t know, I thought we’d have a little look in the phone book.
(Bedboy picks up his mobile and starts scrolling through the menu)

Now let’s see..
there’s Andrea

David Thewlis;
Going out with someone...not attractive
Micheal Caine:
Annette..
James Stuart;
She’s uh.. well y’know she’s uh..expecting a visit from the stork any day now..
Micheal Caine:
Ciara...
Robert Shaw;
Empty waters
Micheal Caine:
and..Oh look! He still has the dream girl’s number..
He watches the others furtively for a moment-and then shouts
DIAL!!!!!!!!!!
( All together )
James Stuart
; Turn it off!-Stop it!

Robert Shaw;
The damage is done! ... she’ll see his number and know he tried to- you bastard Jonah what’ve you done?
A cacophony ensues as they all shout incoherently until the phone is answered then immediate silence.



Dreamgirl;
Hello?
Bedboy;
oh hi, yeah ...it’s me..
Dreamgirl ;
Yeah I saw your number ... whassup
Bedboy ;
Nothing much y’know em I just wondering you know, when I’ll be hearing from the solicitors office.
Dreamgirl ;
Oh..This week it should be
Bedboy ;
oh
David Thewlis;
Put it down! Put it down! Say goodbye and put it down!
Bedboy
So how’s things with you anyway ... any news?
Dreamgirl
No not really- Oh Gerry and Charlene are splitting up
Bedboy;
oh
I guess that seems to be the story these days ... every one splitting up

Dreamgirl;
Yeah.
Bedboy;
;Yeah
Dreamgirl;
(light-heartedly ...trying to make a joke of the situation)
At least they had more sense than to get fucking married.
All;
(react to this with wild silent writhing spasms of agony)

Bedboy;
(humourlessly) I guess so- I’ll see you
Dreamgirl;
Yeah bye
(Bedboy puts down phone)

David Thewlis is hitting
Micheal Caine
David Thewlis;
You stupid fucking prick!, you stupid fucking cunting fucking bastard cunt. Shitearse! Fuck!

James Stuart;
What’ll we do now..
David Thewlis;
Shut up! Just fucking...just shutup, shut up everybody not a fucking sound out of you (points at micheal) now we’re just gonna lie here and not think allright?
Not think.
Maybe he can fall asleep again....Maybe I can escape this fucking hell for a few hours because I’m not
I cant
I think I’m getting’ a bit
I just
If you could just
Quiet! Quiet allright?

Silence.They breathe in unison for a minute and slowly the lights go down to absolute blackness. They rise slowly on the bed where Dreamgirl&Bedboy are together. Bedboy wakes up with a start.



Dreamgirl;

Are you okay hun?

Bedboy;
Oh yeah I just .....(incredulous) fuck! ... What a fucking ... ... ....fuck!


Dreamgirl;
What?
Bedboy;
You’re not thinking about leaving me are you?
Dreamgirl;
What?
Bedboy;
”What can I say?- I need you”
She smiles
Bedboy;

”It’s good that you’re here “
She smiles
Bedboy;
” I can only relax when you're here“





She smiles
Bedboy yawns a long and loud yawn all lights go down slowly to total black.




As the last chorus of lilac wine plays.



END

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Something from a long time ago: Pt 3

Micheal Caine;

What's’ it like being you?

David Thwelis;

Fuck off!


Micheal Caine;

A bit hectic.


David Thwelis;

You are me.



Robert Shaw;

Were in stagnant water then.

(long pause)

James Stuart;

Does anybody wanna tell me why loving someone is such a bad thing?

All;

(snorts of derision)

James Stuart;

Now I just want you all to think about it one second. Why is loving some one so bad.
I mean let’s be clear here that’s what this dream says isn’t it? That our man here still has feelings that he’s not a stone. Is that such a bad thing? I mean let’s just say like for arguments sake whatsay if this same girl was dead huh? I mean if that was it, what if she’d just died I mean people do everyday..what if she was one of them and she died and that was why we didn’t see her any more? Would you all get so excited then?
If she showed up in a dream?
No you wouldn’t.
I don’t think you would, I mean sure you might feel sad to wake up and find she’s gone or whatever but there wouldn’t be the same broo haw ... and d’you know why?
Because that’s what at the bottom of this at the bottom of this whole damn thing that’s what really has you goin’ and nobody’s talking about it.
She left.
She’s somewhere else now with that other fella ...the guy who won-and you don’t like it-and that’s all there is to it.

Micheal Caine:

You mean to say that it’s not this bird at all.
It’s the rejection or summik.

Robert Shaw

; May you both die roaring for a priest

David Thewlis;

Well I’m glad you both feel that way. I really am. I think our man is growing. I think his odyssey of self discovery is coming on nicely and I’m glad you’re both here to read the map for uz. I’m even happier that you have the honestly and wherewithal to realise where it leads us.’Ipso Facto’ a dead end.

James Stuart

; I don’t know that you are reading us right see..

David Thewlis;

Oh but I am reading you right ... I’m reading you loud and clear. ”Broadsword calling Danny Boy” and you’re both right- It’s loverly to hear you admit it old bean. It’s not the girl, it was never the girl,- it’s the rejection, it’s an internalised reaction. To nobody in particular but all rejections. An endless series of rejections- which when taken under examination may ,each of them , be the result of; none other than our mans’ expectation of; rejection. So it’s all stems from him .It’s an endless unbreakable cycle of pain, until sickness and misery and death take over.

James Stuart;

You annoy me (to the others) I thought we weren’t going to listen to this guy anymore ? I thought we all decided that together?
I think we can all remember what happens when he is in charge, Don’t we? Dotcha remember that? Dontcha remember what he did to us? It’s his type of thinking that had our man drop a toaster into the bath. Dontcha remember that?

Robert Shaw;

Now you’d be advised to take it easy. There no skipper on this vessel. We rule as brothers and by consent. This man bears no more responsibility than you do for what happened that day. The charter for this man allows each shipmate an equal voice ,and no-one had you gagged that day....

(pause)
Micheal Caine:

Well are we gonna call this bird then? Or what?

All;

No!

Micheal Caine:

Well what about some other bird?

David Thewlis;

(half I-amused)I don’t believe this, I mean I just don’t- fucking believe it! I mean , where are you going with this one Sherlock? I’d love to know. I mean one minute, we have all decided to ignore that girl for her humanity herself and who she is, one minute the ‘bird’ isn’t a bird at all but rather the focus of our mans subconscious desire for rejection in the form of a visiting dreamtime succubus.-predetermining the outcome of any future possible relationships with any one-(suitable ...or-otherwise.).And now it’s ‘Ring another bird’ what for ?revenge? To feel more pain is it?.Once again we are drawn inexorably towards the vortex of pain, which dominates the ever-repeating cycle of hope and rejection going nowhere? I mean, I’m sorry but that’s all you have to offer then we are better off dropping a toaster into the bath!

Micheal Caine:

alright,
alright
You’ve made your point.
But what you forget is
We all enjoy a bit of the other.

James Stuart;

I think what our friend is saying here is that simple physical enjoyment...Well I don’t think there’s a man here who doesn’t realise our man needs it, and that’s something that should please us..

David Thewlis;

Oh I am deeeelighted

James Stuart;

You’re going to tell me that the smell of a woman..
..I’ll even say it yes ... any woman...the, the touch, .........the closeness the uniquely feminine voice.. which turns even breathing into I dunno ..some kind of music I guess ... Oh you’re immune to all this huh? To know..by sight ,sound and touch every blessed curve of her.



I guess you don’t think anything of that huh? What are you saying ? that it’s too dangerous ,that it’s not spiritual enough for you? That feeling of a woman’s breasts as they press against your...
(ships’ bell rings-or a foghorn sounds)

Robert Shaw;

Horn ahoy!

Micheal Caine:

There’s no denying enthusiasm then.

Robert Shaw;

Blue steel!-She’s rock solid me hearties!

All;

(except David)Hurrah!

Micheal Caine:

Gentlemen
I think
We shall have a wank.



they all huddle in a circle with a pack of cards ... simultaneously Bedboy begins to masturbate





CLICK FOR PART FOUR

Monday, November 15, 2010

Somethin' from a long time ago: Part Deux

CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS POST:


In
‘the bed’ Bedboy lights a fag


All;

‘aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’




Micheal Caine;

Now all I said,
It’s a bit sad.- I still think it is mind you
But that. Is all.
A sad left-over thought,
You’ll have them.
And thinking about it? Well
There’s a waste of time for you if you like.

I vote,
We get up and do something
Hows about a cup of tea? We got ‘Barry’s’ in the kitchen ...
Handsome tea that is



David Thewlis ;

What the fuck for?

Robert Shaw :

‘No’


(they all look at him)


Now see here shipmates, we aint goin’ any where nor doing any god ...damn thing unless we knows for damn certain our vessel is worthy.
Now he’s taken us through many a storm but our hull is weak and I say we don’t leave port to make tea, nor any other thing ‘till this thing is straight. Am I clear on this one Boys?
Now I aint one for ‘rationalising’. I tell each man here straight that I don’t know what this dream means and like enough it could be as you say, a sad, left-over thought like the squall made when a clipper goes down to davy jones.
Men that jump to safety too late get sucked down from that particular ‘after effect’.
We don’t wanna take chances.
Not with this lady.



Jimmy Stuart :

‘So that’s it! ... We had an uncomfortable dream and now we’re gonna give up moving and... I dunno ,maybe sit here forever ‘till we get SORES or something. Well that’s just ...Y’know I gotta say I thought you guys had a little more guts than that...gumption....


David Thewlis ;

(cutting him off) I admire your ingenuity I do.

Jimmy Stuart:

?


David Thewlis ;

How is ignoring it brave ,eh?
How did you work that one out ,eh? Something BIG happens and what do you do? When you know it’s a big deal, but you don’t want to talk about it..you don’t want to deal with it or try and work it out....you want to go make a cup of tea?
Fuckin’ hell ...the answers in the fucking tea leaves?

Jimmy Stuart :

Well y’know who’s to say that making a cup of tea gee I mean it might help with this sort of thing.I mean I dunno maybe it’s just me but I don’t see why we all have to sit down and wallow in it . Where does that get us?, You know I’ve been right here in this head for as long as you have and I got some...and that’s another thing..say where do you get off with this whole...

Micheal Caine;

Hang on a minute,
lads, I've got an idea...

Maybe we should call her

All;

Why?


Robert Shaw:

Have you been drinking Seawater?

Micheal Caine

; Ring her up,have a chat ...I mean, there’s still no sign of those solicitors letters, is there? That’s a legitimate inquiry right there.
Few minutes chitchat.
What’s the harm?

Jimmy Stuart ;

I , I don’t think...

David;

Fuckin’ hell ... Thought I was the suicidal one around here mate.

Micheal Caine;

Why not?

David Thewlis;

Why not? Because it’s the thing we have learned not to do. Because it’s not a ‘legitimate inquiry’ ... It’s the desperate neurotic act of a man who can’t stop thinking about her and I guarantee you it will be read as such.

Think about it.
She’s gone nearly four years now. Four years. Four interesting,- bizarre,painfull pointless loveless years, and if we make that phone call we might get a moments respite, from our dilemma here, we might get the stark contrast between the dream girl and the actual banality. That might free us from this nocturnal mania and put a spring in our step once more. We might.
We might just as easily be rewarded with nothing other than more fuel for this unending mind-splitting moping neurosis!
If she’s cold and matter-of-fact, as she always is .That , will, hurt. As it always does.
If-on the other hand- she’s all warm and friendly and speaks with any feeling at all then were gonna get a repeat presentation of the disgraceful and worrying performance we’ve seen here tonight so no we are not ringing her.

Micheal Caine;

What’it like being you?

David Thwelis;

Fuck off!

Micheal Caine;

A bit hectic.

David Thwelis;

You are me.

Robert Shaw;

We're in stagnant water then...











CLICK HERE FOR PART THREE

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Somethin' from a long time ago: Part One


Blogs aint for this: this aint what blogs is for,
Reposting work that was intended for an entirely different medium and method for consumption as purely text, well.... That's not fair on anybody is it?

On the other hand, here on th'interweb, nobody reads past what they feel like reading and so I say to myself: 'Why not?-there's always the possibility that nobody reads the damn thing anyway'.


So here it is, an innappropriately long post, in segments, of a short play like as what I wrote many moons ago. T'was performed alongside Ciarda Toibins 'Duet' in the unFringed(sic) festival.

Now:
To start us off there is something we can do with th'interweb that you cant do with a normal script and that's include the references; Youtube links for:

David Thewlis Playing 'Johnny' in Naked.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70-y0AwwCOk&feature=related



Jimmy Stuart as George Bailey in 'It's a wonderful life'.

http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4ne13Zft9Q






Micheal Caine as 'Alfie'.

http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzQTF--oQ-U&feature=related


and Robert Shaw as 'Quint' in Jaws.



http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=B5nIWSboBfY&feature=related




This last clip is of a Robert Shaw impersonater... which is more accurate than actually Robert Shaw for this script.

Now: All these clips are worth watching in their own right, but they're included here to give anyone who's lost a better idea of what I was trying to do. ...





The lead in music was 'Lilac Wine' as sung by Jeff Buckley played only as far as the end of the first verse. The stage is in total blackout:



One man in a ‘Bed’ Bedboy. Behind him ‘Dreamgirl’, around him 4 figures in black:
Micheal Caine-- Jimmy Stuart--,David Thewlis and Robert Shaw (as ‘flint’ in Jaws) or at least actors/directors interpretations of them .In the central area of the bed, under red lighting Bedboy and Dream girl snuggle.

Bedboy;

”What can I say?- I need you”
She smiles



Bedboy;

”It’s good that you’re here “
She smiles


Bedboy;

” I only relax when you're here“
She smiles


Bedboy yawns a long and loud yawn all lights go down slowly to total black.
Then they come on as suddenly as technically possible in both areas. Bedboy is in bed , he stares at the ceiling. The crew of the boat adopt various casual poses.



Micheal Caine;

Now that is pretty sad, I think.
Jimmy Stuart,

Now,now,now I don’t know that I’d say ‘sad’ exactly right away there, I mean y’see let’s just take a moment maybe and see what it is that just happened here. Now the way I look at it ,well this Boy just had a dream here ,right ... am I right?
Robert Shaw


“aaaaaaaaeargh!”
Jimmy Stuart


“what?”


Robert Shaw;

“Listen, I’m glad to hear you speak up for the lad ... Truly , but only a dream ..It wasn’t only a dream, a day trip or a Sunday regatta. That was herself. And memory serving me right ways it was herself who nearly scuppered all of us.
(murmurs of aItalicssent)


Jimmy Stuart ;

“No it wasn’t, it wasn’t her at all.
All it was ... leastaways that I can see ... was a dream about her, and a dream about her and her herself are two different things- dontcha see that?


David Thewlis ;

Yes we see that we all see that but what you seem to be labouring under
Is the misapprehension that it matters.
It -does ...not-fucking-matter.
You don’t matter I don’t matter and this conversation doesn’t matter ‘ cos it’s NOT FUCKING REAL.But the whole point, kernel, crunch of the crispies and the rock you perish on is IT HAPPENED. And no it didn’t happened in the shops or at a disco or any other arena that qualifies as reality no it happened somewhere more important than that it happened HERE in this very mind. This very mind that is our home , our source , our universe , our mother and if you’ll allow me to paraphrase (adopts1930’s Brooklyn accent)’It’s a reevoltin’ development’”


Jimmy Stuart
“ Well just hang on there buddy what it is I mean what I say it is is..
David Thewlis ;

” I DON’T CARE WHAT IT FUCKING IS !We are in shit!

Micheal Caine

Alright ,alright,...
now: what we don’t want to do..
is lose our focus here.
So what I suggest..
Is first of all..
We’re gonna have ourselves a fag ... I do believe we left two fags by the bed last night?


(murmurs of assent)



Okay let’s have one then .

In ‘the bed’ Bedboy lights a fag .


All;
‘aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’




PART DEUX

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Something to do with Toast




Sweet fillet of bread,
We love you the most,
Virgin White,
Ravished Brown,
And turned into some toast.





Too long have we struggled,
Too long have we toiled,
against those
who would have our bread
Basted or Boiled.

I dream of a future,
That daily comes closer,
Where each,
single person,
Recieves their own toaster.

I know that such right
-minded toaster dispersal,
Can only contribute,
to peace Universal,



How great for a people,
To live in a land-which,
Saves all from the shame of
the untoasted sandwhich.

I say to bread-fryers:
"You People are damned!"
(Some perverts just eat it
straight from the sliced pan)

But Steamed, Blanched or Fricaseed,
Microwaved,
Roasted,
There's only one way to eat bread
and that's toasted.!


Sunday, October 10, 2010

That's not the shape of my club

The names Spade: Sam Spade. People in this town might tell you I’m a bit of a card.
people in this town don’t know Jack.





People in this town don’t know Jack but I do.
I know Jack . Jack the knave I call him.
Not really a friend but more of an acquaintance
We share the same taste in suits.



This story aint about jack.
This story is about Jill.

Jill heart.
Said her middle name was ted.
But then Jill Ted Heart said a lotta things



It all began last Tuesday when she came into my office.
She was a dame alright, The dame of hearts.
She looked like she’d broken a few.
“Are you Mr Spade” she asked with honey dripping
from her voice like golden dew on an autumn morning

One look at her and I was ready to fold,
But you gotta stay professional in this business,
“Just call me Ace, sweetheart”
I said with my best poker face
Then She flipped.
“Oh Mr Spade, I don’t know where to turn”

“Why don’t you just lay it all out the table cupcake?-
Patience aint a game I’ve ever been good at”
“Oh Mr Spade…Ace- It’s Louis the king,
I think…I think he’s been cheating on me”.


“Louis the King?” I’m guessin’ that’s your fella,
Hope you don’t mind me sayin’ so,
But anyone dumb enough to cheat on a dame like
you aint playin with a full deck”

“That’s nice of you to say so ace.”
But I’m sure of it.- something’s going on
and I want…”
I want revenge Mr Spade.

“Just what are you sayin’ sister?”
I think you know,
I’m prepared to give good money,
I want him , I want him off the deck”

So that was the play, she wanted louis to take his mortal coil,
and shuffle it.
“Can you do it?” asked Jill Ted Heart with a pair of flashing blue-eyes
That said: “you’d better buster”.

Like I say, I’ve been called a card and it’s true I know a few tricks:
“Say..How do I know you really mean that toots?
How do I know you aint been at the Gin?”

“Rummy? Is what you think of me? That I’m a drunk?”
“ I didn’t mean for you to get all bent out of shape,
How about you make like my old Irish mother used to say and ‘whisht’?

First of all, this is some serious business here,
I mean if someone was to hear what we been talking about now,
I could be in some serious trouble.

“‘Snap’ Mr Spade”.
Well Okay, maybe we’ll play that bridge when we come to it.
First off, you may be the queen of hearts sugar
But I aint, I call a spade a spade,
I can use a club or a blackjack,
And I know Diamonds aint forever.
But cutting the King from the deck
is dealing from the bottom
Whatever way you look at it… "

"You think I’m bluffing? "



"I think I might wanna hedge my bets.
I don’t wanna end up in some penitentiary,
There’s a lotta Cops in this town’d be mighty
pleased to see ole’ Ace in the hole".

"Please Mr Ace you gotta do Something! "
"Okay Cupcake, how’s about you take a seat while,
I put a call through to my Club",



I picked up the receiver:
"Operator give me number 2".
“What? -The Deuce?” asked Ms Heart,

"Certainly Ms Heart, it’s 2 man operation
And Club’s the best 2 man I know",
“Yes I suppose but..”
“You didn’t think I was playin’ Solitaire didya?”




"Say while we’re on numbers; maybe now we talk about what you’re
Plannin’ on putting in the pot.
I mean, I’d do this job for the sake of your big blue eyes,
but I got deuce to pay".

“Whatever you ask Mr Spade”
Smilin' slyly- Like the cat who was the Queen,
“ I been bakin’ my own tarts for some time now”


Then I got through to the club
“Hey Deuce!” Deuce or clubby to his face,
Deuce never liked bein’ called number two,




"We gotta game over here Deuce,
Why don’t you just shuffle over
and I’ll lay out the deal, and Deuce,
bring the necessaries".

I put down the phone and upped the Ante,
“ Jill Ted Heart, The Queen of Hearts
I never heard of a Queen without a King,
And you just said you don’t care about the cost of this caper,

How about you come clean,
Nobody bakes that many tarts
How long it’s been goin’ on with you
and the King of Diamonds?"

Ace you have … you have information?
“I don’t need information, I got instinct,
You want instinct, I’m the guy you come to,
Hence my slogan; Instinct- we got it in Spades”

“ Oh I couldn’t help myself,
When I saw that cute crown,
That crazy moustache, that fancy collar…”



"Yeah I spose you aint the first dame to go for a Diamond in the ruff.
But this time the cards aint gonna fall the way you want them to.
“what do you mean Mr Spade?”
"I mean this, for someone who calls herself the 'Queen of hearts'
You’ve been playing some heartless game here tonight.
I’m sayin’ I know a wildcard when I see one.”

The door flew open and in came Clubby Deuce,
With a load of Cops and some leg irons.
"Here he is!" I told them…
He? Asked the deuce, still starin’ at the Queen,
“Yeah! It’s a helluva disguise, but then they say he
can pass himself off as anyone”

"This is ridiculous! Shouted Queenie
The guys on Dope I tellya,- that’s what it is: Ace’s High!"
The Cop sniffed his nose in the Air;



"Number Two?"


" You smell something?"
He asked Clubby the deuce,
"I smell a rat is what I smell" said clubby,
The cop smiled:"That’s right, Ace’s on the level,
The only dope in this room tonight is you ...
Joker!"

And once he said it the game was over.
Same old Joker, well there’s one in every pack.
Always tryin’ to be some body else,



Tonight the Queen of Hearts,
But with Louis outa the deck,
Joker’d soon be looking to play the King of Hearts.
Permanently.
Good Job me and Clubby always called the cops
“ The necessaries”
As for how things played out,
The Cops got their Joker,
I got some well earned rest.
And Clubby number two got handsomely renumerated,



Cause Like I say:


I always pay my Deuce.


Stuff I done:


Pomes;
Rat Pome
Ned Song
Toast Pome
A Dreadful Sonnet
Forest Pome




Plays;
Complete: Bull
Spinal Krapp
Something Rotten,
A Load of Rubbish,
The Maltese Falcon May Be Already Taken,
Dreamgirl

It really tied the room together did it not?


I met a friend recently who confessed difficulty putting their thoughts into text.
"Nothing unusual there" says you, "not everyone can, it's a bit of a thing really isn't it?" and yes I suppose it is.

Some folks seem just born to do it but for the rest of us poor mortals it takes practice.

What astonished my friend though was that he had never realised this about himself; he'd presumed that, because he is an articulate and well-read person in conversation, that his writing would just 'come out' and 'be good'. He was a bit humbled to find out how difficult it was to do, once he'd sat down to do it.



Having difficulty writing stuff doesn't make you thick, and writing quickly and easily doesn't make you clever. I know my mate be clever, (He's smarter than me anyway) all that was really wrong with him was not that he 'couldn't write' but that he hadn't written anything in ages. Not incapable, or incompetent; he just is, or was, rusty.

Watching him struggle and feel bad frightened the bejeepers out of me though.



Micheal Caine got a lot of stick throughout his career for being in silly crap things just for the money. He makes the point in his autobigraphy that the actor who rejects 'unworthy' projects is not acting wisely.

Mr Caine suggests that the 'selective' actor is in danger of being hopelessly out of practice: they turn down roles theey consider beneath them and by the time this elusive gig that they can deem 'worthy of their craft' finally comes along, they may be too rusty to do it properly.

I can see what he's getting at. Incidentally, don't be distracted by the mysogynist advertisement with the rug there's nothing to be read into these things, absolutely nothing. It is not a reflectionof my deeper feelings to the fairer sex at this time.

Stop looking at me like that.

Where was I? Yes!
I gave up this blog some time ago, originally to concentrate on a Hamlet adaptation and then I read somewhere that the greatest factor in blog popularity is not the quality of writing or the subject matter but simply the frequency of posts. Well that put me right off.

Sure you might as well start tweeting altogether if that's your notions!

Tweeting may change the way we live and communicate in a revolutionary way but 'tweet' has got to be the crappest verb in history. Real men dont tweet.

Anyhoo, long-blog-short,- I've been out of it; I've been havin'a bit of Darrentime, just for me; I've been coastin' for way too long I admit it.
So it's time to roll up the sleeves and get back into the Stuffinthangs swing of things. I'm not gonna do this everyday because it's just too hard, I shant be taking over the interweb anytime soon either but 'tis a good discipline to be writing. Even if I'm just blathering away. Nobody minds that I don't have a point.


I hope.

It's just like,my opinion man...

Images stolen from B3ta

More Ballycotton


This is'nt really a post so much as an excuse to display more of the ballycotton photos.


Handlines


Mothman


Pier pressure


Curley Cuisine


Happy happy head-bangers.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Ballycotton


For them as don't already know, there is a bit of a phenomena in Limerick by the name of Anne Curley and better known as 'Curley'.
She runs one of the more chaotically organised thrift-shops in Limerick, a place called 'Second-Time Round' on Wickham St.
With the proceeds of 'Second-Time Round' she runs a kind of holiday home in Ballyandreen in Co.Cork.


The kids all call it; 'Ballycotton', after the name of the nearest town, and so do I and so does Curley. I've been going there for a number of years , and it aint easy, but the craic to be had is none of your oul' normal craic that you wouldn't bother sayin' hello twice to, oh no. The Ballycotton craic is the top-notch stuff.
So there you have it, a few weeks out of the year down by the seaside. We swim every day, we go on long walks every day, we eat sandwiches on the beach every day, we do our jobs every day and we eat plenty of wholesome food whether we like it or not because Curley has rules about these sort of things.
The beach is really close and also really rocky. It's not the long white sandy number that you think of when you hear the word 'beach'. When the tide is in, it's pebbles and rocks only. But you don't mind that when you're down in Ballycotton.
There's a whole different set-up in Ballycotton.

For me, I can only describe it as the nearest thing to the 1950's summer holiday you can get. The entertainment seems pretty slim by the standards of todays generation; No Telly, No Interweb, No phone coverage,No videogames.
All you can do is be there, and yet strangely that always seems to be enough. Corned beef sandwiches and polluted orange and Mrs McCarthy's Cake on the beach.
Every day. Walking 'over the mountains' -past the Sheep's head, past the wooden bridge, past the savage cabbages, past the water-you-can-drink, and past the lecktrick fence, and past the concrete box and past the picnic tables and into Ballycotton town, to spend your euro -if you haven't been 'docked'.
You can fish off the peir if you have a rod or a handline.
You can jump off the peir if Curley reckons you're a strong enough swimmer.
Any fish caught will be cleaned and gutted and eaten as near to catching as possible.


There is nothing as lovely as a fresh mackerel fried and seasoned with a bit of lemon. It's 'UNHUMAN!'