Downloaded my tweets the other week and was surprised to find out so much about myself. For example, being not long out of a relationship which ended badly, the first year is moribund, emotionally disconnected tweets. Then I went driving all over California in April 2009, and came back a new woman. From then on, they get interesting - and delighted that one of the first tweets after that relates to something I really only picked up on later on. If you know my writing, Twitter, blogging and girl crushes, you'll spot it quickly enough ;-)
I've gone back 2 years as some of them were really just so funny and natural ...
2011-04-14 17:03 Aib staffer at dart st reading a presentation - can't help noticing words "to achieve our vision" - would like to add
..."With everybody elses money"
Note to all you aib staffers who take home work presentations - don't read it on the dart, your owners sit opposite
2011-04-15 22:16:18 High kings have worst vocal technique I've ever heard - every single note is scooped and tuning poor #latelate
2011-04-15 21:57:59 Glad #latelate mentions stigma, have seen staff in portrane treat patients (and visitors) like vermin #nurseratchet
2011-04-28 11:43:35 @coleman4seanad What happened to the bloke who was describing himself as a "housewife?" That obviously went down a bomb
2011-05-01 18:46:50 Arse. Missed the half 7 bus. Now I'm f@@@ed
2011-05-10 22:25:42 Ok she's jesse jones. Did somebody pick her up in the wright venue?
2011-05-10 22:23:49 Whose is the botox woman? #theview #rte
2011-04-29 10:14:36 RT @DianaInHeaven: This is well fucking boring.
2011-04-30 13:10:18 Thank you to those who came and supported us, we took 1st prize for chamber choirs #corkchamberchoir #corkchoralfesitval
2011-04-30 11:18:53 whoever "composed" that thing tribal chamber choir did should be thrown into the lee #corkchoralfesitval
2011-05-12 15:42:20 Actually in 1982 a period red brick in Dublin 6 was going for 40k - same as a large 4 bed SD in Swords. Old was so, loike, yesterday
2011-05-12 15:41:36 Sorry GMAC properties, but properties in Dublin in the 80s didn't cost 80k, nevermind properties in Kerry. Or 500k, "discount" auction? Fail
2011-05-14 21:40:52 Irland nul points. Bye bye JedCrap
2011-05-20 13:39:21 AVOID THAT CHICKEN!!!! #queensvisit
2011-05-20 13:37:48 Nice thing about a visit to the English Market is that it always looks good #queensvisit
2011-05-20 13:36:10 Ah go on, the pigs trotters. You know you want to. #queensvisit
2011-05-20 13:34:05 Dead proud of Cork #queensvisit
2011-05-20 13:49:51 I have to admit to being totally beside myself #queensvisit
2011-05-20 15:14:55 Numerous choirs, including St Patricks Day in Cork in 1994. Was in the audience on "Play the Game" in the 80s. #secretTVpast
2011-05-27 14:59:02 Amused by Eamonn Ryan's elevation. My mother is convinced he is a poof and calls him "Nancy"
2011-05-29 13:08:48 Breakfast in dublin. Lunch in cork. Dinner wherever?
2011-05-28 15:14:21 There is so much pretension in dublin. I really hate it when I see somebody pompous getting snooty with waitresses
2011-06-13 12:08:38 Whats repulsive about Tom MacMaster is using a gay woman to manipulate: tacky old patriarchal assumption that they "think the same as a man"
2011-06-30 14:28:13 Apple moving support to Cork city centre: is that so its ultra low paid support staff can afford to get to work?
2011-07-29 20:07:38 at Reich effect at Cork city hall. Have to say music is decidedy non Reich
2011-07-25 18:26:5 staying in a real live ghost hotel. Bizarre experience
2011-10-25 09:32:00 Hooray for Glenda Lynch #rte #stopSeanGallagher
2011-06-10 12:17:00 Nice to see that the unions have struck some kind of deal over JLCs,the usual "protect existing members and fuck everyone else" kind of deal
2011-06-10 10:06:37 As for Chase myth that GSK has no emergency plan, greatest load of utter rubbish, GSK creaks under the weight of plans for every eventuality
2011-06-10 10:05:58 As of 2002 Novartis had 2 incinerators and GSK had 3. Pfizer applied for permission for a 3rd which incidated they had 2. Probably fewer now
2011-06-10 10:01:53 For those interested there are at least 4 incinerators currently burning toxic waste in the Currabinny/Ringaskiddy area
2011-04-10 12:51:26 Twitter for iPhone
@JoannaRyde good point. Do you exist? What if you have an alter ego or multiple personality disorder2011-04-09 18:37:56 For no reason, the entire stadium just started waving flags and singing
2011-03-08 21:38:06 #skyliving not my usual viewing but programme on gay husbands surprisingly compelling
2011-03-08 08:49:18 "Left Alliance will fight sale of state assets 'to the death'" - please do, and die quickly and quietly if you can.
2011-03-03 01:30:06 is Corksick again
2011-03-01 17:22:44 I do love the Dept of Finances Bertie job. It wasn't me. Nobody told me. I wish somebody had've told me. Oh dear. It was somebody else.
2011-03-04 10:23:04 Signed up for TCD Front Gate online. http://bit.ly/hWDXZM Very scary that I still recall my student id. I left in 1996, dropped out of MLitt
2011-02-25 01:21:11 I know I've attacked him many times (including in person) but how did FG nominate that moron Dara Murphy in Cork NC? http://bit.ly/hE6uU9
2011-02-23 15:18:07 @SwearyLady Yah, I know, its as farcial as the Cowen Underpants portrait saga. http://bit.ly/f3jHux In Belfast Telegraph, starts "Teen held"
2011-02-23 08:56:34 Anybody know who the boy is who was arrested for writing "wanted for treason" on FF posters? I'd like to contribute to his defence fund.
2011-02-23 00:53:30 BTW my Uncle (ex Sports sub editor of the long defunct Irish Press) insists that a certain candidate in Dublin 4 "set Dockerells on fire"
2011-02-21 07:42:49 Why is it the 2 dumb blondes who never stop yapping always home in on me on the 7.35 Swords Express?
2010-12-31 12:34:08 Delighted to see Bushmills 400 anniversary and the very good 21 year old single malt in airport. Credit card weeping
2010-12-26 00:49:48 The cat went missing for 2 days and then kindly turned up tonight just in time for the evening movie. No idea where she was.
2010-12-24 22:05:05 No sign of the cat today. We reckon she has scaled a few garages and can't get back in reverse
2010-12-24 20:17:56 There is something creepy about the Priests
2010-12-14 20:09:38 Poverty in Ireland is definitely getting poorer
2010-12-18 09:49:02 One of those intensely cruel moments when you think, "my god, what a fat arse!"
2010-11-24 16:40:41 #imnotleaving because I can't
2010-11-15 23:01:01 Orla Boylan's Vissi d'arte would bring a tear to your eye #operaireland
2010-11-15 23:00:23 Poor old Tosca got a bit of a raw deal, and Orla Boylan didn't have a podium to chuck herself off #operaireland
2010-11-15 19:38:42 At the opera. I definitely need a fur coat for occasions like this
2010-11-06 00:05:23 Good lord. #jeanbyrne appears to be reading the weather in what seems to be a slip. That or the iron wasn't working.
2010-10-11 18:28:47 Advert envy: ESB trying to have an even bigger, more expensive ad than EirGrid
2010-09-23 11:44:03 Amused at ppl who think St Lukes quiet. In my time there it was car thefts, joy riders, burnt out cars, loony with gun, 1 murder + bus crash
2010-09-15 17:07:07 EBS investors ideas are interesting and realistic. Lady beside me on bus smells divine.
2010-09-10 20:14:33 In Mallow! Where's the loo!?
2010-06-25 11:06:49 O great that other twit is gone.
2010-06-23 20:35:54 Ran out of M&S wine so now drinking unicum which tastes like an old sock. I woul rather drink tea. If anybody likes, its yours. Free. EW
2010-06-23 16:50:57 Celebrating my newly found unemployedness (or is that freelanceness?) with a bottle of M&S red and Jamaican jerk
2010-06-21 10:32:45 Amusing lady on #PK - what is this? I have a friend I can send.
2010-06-14 16:57:33 I love how FG can downgrade, Richard Bruton, potentially heave Enda Kenny, and yet not remove somebody like Anne Devitt?
2010-06-14 12:08:26 And it deflects from superficiality of the banking reports and how they utterly ignore the values/beliefs govt policy was based on
2010-06-13 19:37:40 The only good story was that he could actually play the pipe organ, and occasionally did so in public :-)
2010-06-13 19:37:05 Watching TG4 doc on Pres Hillery. Very much part of FF tradition of finding an uncontroversial middleweight and shitting him at Irish public
2010-06-13 19:13:22 Cockney prick upstairs shouting at something - either tv or long suffering polish tart - hard to determine which. Put on loud Crystal Swing
2010-06-13 16:25:22 "Since it is national bike week, I hereby invite you all to cycle up to mine.
PS I live afew streets off the top of Patricks Hill."
2010-06-01 23:40:45 Jean Byrne - a picture saves a thousand words. Me Jean, you Tarzan. #jeanbyrne #cavewoman http://twitpic.com/1t4qhp
2010-05-31 16:52:04 Haretz footage not exactly convincing - it appears that the IDF soldiers were attacked by a barrage of childrens toys and a household hammer
2010-05-31 15:08:52 @jennifurret Classic GAA legs - http://www.rte.ie/sport/gaa/championship/2010/0516/christyring.html?gaa
2010-05-29 20:25:38 jesus those leather pants are tight. she'll never get out of them alive. #eurovision nice high notes #romania
2010-05-29 20:24:09 fab piano. otherwise FAIL #eurovision #romania
2010-05-29 20:20:03 ok this sounds like something you'd hear on a latino radio station while driving around downtown LA #eurovision #france
2010-05-29 20:16:12 its the grim reaper! and shes beautiful! #eurovision
2010-05-29 20:12:49 lol! terrible dress, good song #eurovision #iceland
2010-05-29 00:46:23 To the gowl upstairs: is it really necessary to bang your slapper so loudly at nearly 2am?
2010-05-28 17:55:35 Tis Evelyn. She nicked Jean's necklace. Woozy Atlantic chart up again. And I haven't even opened a bottle yet. #evelyncusack #rte #weather
2010-05-27 09:54:23 I've just discovered Autostraddle, a near relation to the Sword, only for girls who do.
2010-05-26 23:42:24 The great body hair debate http://www.thesword.com/index.php/cultureschlock/3746-men-look-better-hairy-did-you-know-this.html
2010-05-25 21:49:09 Una nochy for fortuni dowry groinnage. Lock up your hettie homie chavvies! #jeanbyrne
2010-05-25 15:30:06 Had to seriously restrain myself from buying 6 copies of "Good Vibrations" for SATB. Love Beach Boys!
2010-05-25 15:21:26 On a happier note, you can also get "Don't rain on my parade" from "Funny Girl" for SATB
2010-05-25 15:19:59 Rather disturbed to note that you can buy "The Rose" as made famous by Bette Midler for SATB
2010-05-24 11:58:03 Get them while they're drunk!
2010-05-22 18:13:24 Why is it some ppl end up with squealing piglets instead of children? #grumpyoldwoman
2010-05-22 17:57:53 Strange hotels 1 - abandoned drainpipe http://www.dasparkhotel.net/index.php?lang=EN
2010-05-22 14:02:22 Guy next door is very weird, lives around an increasing pile of plastic bags - male equivalent of bag lady? #flatland
2010-05-21 15:25:17 I think I should post in polari from now on. Nishta bonaroo Jubes to ogle here.
2010-05-21 14:59:21 Is it just me or is everybody losing things this week?
2010-05-21 14:12:19 Its an opera I know, but it works. Nixon in Taiwan #lesserbooks
2010-05-19 16:16:48 Still laughing at Dail "ass" spat. Oh dear.
2010-05-18 13:26:03 Lynch is warm and entertaining, could listen to her all day, her unpolitical correctness is very refreshing.
2010-05-18 13:12:00 In fact Katherine is still laughing and actually, its certainly a kind of funny story to start with, you'd need to be very dour indeed ...
2010-05-14 16:41:14 The guy who described Cowen etc as "cake eating simpletons" is so right. I feel utterly embarassed when I see other countries reps.
2010-05-05 21:42:11 Oh and millitary gear, what was I thinking. With a real 2nd hand pilotka too.
2010-05-05 10:56:11 Audrey McGrath is wearing a top that looks like a load of blinds stitched together.
2010-05-05 10:21:23 Blarney Castle bigot now complaining about employing foreign workers. I wring my hands. They were employed because they didn't scowl at you.
2010-05-05 10:07:31 Ethel Buckley talking sense. No point in paying lowest possible wage as overall quality declines. Why not outsource Blarney to Jakarta?
2010-05-01 01:10:58 The shoegirl legend apparently lives on of its own accord. I'm dead quiet, really.
2010-04-29 21:08:04 Can't really talk myself, currently wearing leather look waistcoast over heavily ripped denims n sneakers. Drew line at leather shorts...
2010-04-29 20:32:42 Jean's zip up number is zipping down! Oops! #jeanbyrne
2010-04-29 18:14:06 Gratified to see however, that jean byrne didn't buy the snakeskin print dress i have my eye on. I mean, if we turned up at the same par ...
2010-04-28 22:13:27 Playing with surf hair again. Stood on end for a while but I haven't quite mastered the Jedward look yet. Its more KD Lang circa 1991 now.
2010-04-28 14:24:25 Apparently the deaths of 600 Irish people abroad in last 3 years can't be recorded on Irish death certs.Does that mean you're still with us?
2010-04-21 16:49:23 Knit your own Julia set. Ah go on #mathematicalknitting
2010-04-20 23:54:50 What is that thing around Jean Byrne's waist? It resembles a chastity belt. It's no dainty accessory. #jeanbyrne
2010-04-19 14:31:16 Meddling Mickey, our local, "let me interfere and muck it up" agent, is at it again. Pity he can't actually do his own work himself. . .
2010-04-19 13:38:16 Clongriffin is now a town? I've been out of Dublin too long.
2010-04-03 19:45:08 Just learned a new word - "girl crush" - apparently its when one girl feels utter adoration for another girl, despite being heterosexual
2010-04-02 12:28:12 Left my mussels & wensleydale cheese in Dr Mary Favier's fridge last night so baked potatoes it is
2010-03-22 15:44:26 enjoyed BikeSnobNYC's blog this week, esp the photo of the guy doing a cycling race while wearing a tutu
2010-03-22 15:29:56 is still reeling from the news that a very old friend has come out, I truly thought he was the most unlikely, hetero guy there!!
2010-03-21 13:26:44 is about to attck the carcass of Frieda, the travelling drinking St Patricks Day chicken
2010-03-21 13:11:50 is sober today but feeling fiendishly subversive.
2009-07-20 11:11:33 really enjoyed the opening night Prom on Friday, especially the Alto Rhapsody, shame iPlayer doesn't allow non-UK viewers to watch it online
2009-06-18 10:35:00 Who's your Daddy.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Un-nationhood? Language & perceptions of privilege in Irish society
Today I discovered a little blog where somebody waves their arms persistently and wildly about the disgraceful state of this country towards native speakers, and how their rights are persistently denied.
Hang on, you say, isn't Irish (or Gaelige), our native language? Enshrined as such in the constitution, empowered by law, every state agency there is having to hire many happy minions of adoring speakers (including some great friends) to ensure that happens?
Indeed it is, but read on.
This chap, anyway, claims to have been arrested, because when he was asked a question by a member of the Gardaí Síochána, they wouldn't (or probably couldn't) understand him, and he refused to speak in plain English.
So it appears that he was made accompany them to the nearest station, where he had to wait for a suitably competent Irish speaker to arrive, and continue whatever business it was in said language. The gentleman in question is now crying "discrimination." In fact he's a whole blog dedicated to it.
Bónapárt Ó Cúnasa had nothing on this.
It was a horrible aspect of colonial rule here that official business, regardless of your spoken tongue, was to be done as Bearla (in English). As a result, those who couldn't speak English were fundamentally disadvantaged, particularly before the courts, where there is significant evidence to suggest that people were tried and found guilty without even knowing what they were charged with. This was - of course - an appalling practice. Those who couldn't speak English couldn't partake in so much of society that by the tail end of the 19th century, considerable swathes of the populace no longer had a grasp of the language, and spoke only English. To such an extent, that pre-revival, it was seen as a mark of peasantry and impoverishment to do so (something which kind of lingers this day, to be honest).
Post independence, every effort was made to reinstate the mother tongue. As we know, it failed horribly and had unintended consequences. Native speakers were given grants, additional resources were put into native speaking regions to attempt to invigorate them (even artificially creating one, Rathcairn, in county Meath). Those who took examinations through the means of Irish were given bonus scores in order to incentivise education through Irish: one of a few very successful efforts. Funding was given to organisations promoting music, art etc, through the medium. Those in state jobs who had responsibilities involving Irish were rewarded for it. Hell, there were even jobs specifically for translations etc. Outside of education and arts, it didn't really succeed. Increasing urbanisation and the cultural dominance of Britain and the USA over Irish culture has largely denied traditional culture a full revival. In some ways, this has become a good thing.
For example, it is often, fairly, resented that native speakers are automatically given higher exam grades, because this conveys an advantage over similarly able students. Most particularly, it deliberately discriminates against those coming from outside Ireland or whose families are not Irish. I genuinely think this is unintentional: I don't think anybody sat there in the 1920s and specifically designed laws to prevent Germans or Italians from getting jobs in the civil service, etc, although there was a tacit intention to weed out Anglicism and force colonial English back to whence they came.
While rural areas still suffer crushing impoverishment as a result of isolation and the crawl of urbanisation, first language is no longer the primary determiner of disadvantage. Go to the very isolated part of the south west Donegal and listen to the kids talking: its not Irish that they speak. Their disadvantage is not due to language, but to geography, ignorance, clueless capitalist notions about investment, and sometimes, more than a little intransigence. The scourge of "ruralism as amenity" has probably done more harm than any other factor in recent decades (i.e. the horrible practice of living in an urban area while maintaining a "holiday home" in a rural region for leisure only - not the more beneficial practice of long range working, where people at least attempt to live in the rural area and work remotely or commute long distances). If anything, speaking Gaelige fluently is for many, a means to some small advantage.
The resentment against native speakers described in the blog is not atypical, but the result of years of relative discrimination against non speakers that resulted from well intentioned but flawed practices. My own father's education suffered badly because he could only get into an Irish-speaking school, but he didn't have sufficient Irish to learn properly so he failed his group cert and dropped out at 14 with no qualifications. Every other person I know who went to the same school did extremely well: indicating that the ability to speak fluently conveyed advantage on users. It also opened up whole areas of work previously unavailable: for example, if you are a mathematician or physicist and want to work in Met Eireann, having fluent Irish could be very useful indeed, for translating forecasts or data into Irish. It might sound ridiculous, but its true.
Some of you will be familiar with Hugo Hamilton's wonderful book (and subsequent play) "A Speckled People." Hamilton, the son of a Corkman and a German mother, describes in detail his father's fascist tendencies that led him to ban his children from speaking English or fraternising with English speakers, which horribly isolated them in south county Dublin. Dublin wasn't exactly crawling with German speakers and native speakers were thinner there in his fathers circles. Hamilton accurately examines the dichotomy between "official" Ireland and informal Ireland, where in practice, while Irish was a useful tool to advancement, English was essential for everyday life. He also examines the ugly fascist underbelly of his father's beliefs, and the tragic back stories buried behind his parents lives: that his grandfather was in the British naval service and his mother's sexual abuse in Germany at the hands of a high-ranking businessman.
But rightly, many people are angry at the effective result of some of policies. For example, you cannot work as a primary level teacher in this country, unless you can speak and teach Irish to a considerable level. This makes it very close to impossible for foreign teachers or those trained abroad to work at all in the primary sector. Think what this means: it means every single child in this country will be taught by somebody with a degree of fluency, who is almost certainly born and bred here. This, I suspect, is a very strong reason why despite atrocities of the extreme ends of the republican movement, the nationalist movement in its post-revival republican form has survived almost intact. Only in a very tiny handful of private schools will you see a different culture - or a small very large, progressive schools in urban Dublin (such the one I went to in Brackenstown - where you didn't see the Padraig Pearse posters or learn Amhrán na bhFiann - in fact I only learned it at the grand old age of 36 in a choir that was singing on the pitch for - ironically - a soccer match!)
To to some extent, the special place of the language and its speakers has both marginalised and advantaged it. In practice, there is a level of advantage open to speakers, should they wish to take advantage of it. In reality, most choose not to and just enjoy the language for its own self and as part of their heritage. Yet there is still a cultural hangover of the association of traditional culture with impoverishment, and a resultant fetishisation of misfortune along with it. Thus the blogger almost delights in his being (in his perception) maltreated by the Bearlachas, although the ludicrousness of the implicit colonial looking down on him is as nonsensical as it is (more plainly put) in Hamilton's biographical novel. Hamilton, in contrast, is plainly aware that the reason that his father is, for example, not lauded in the ESB for his Irishery, is not because his colleagues look down on him, but because either they don't actually speak the language or it is irrelevant to the work which they carry out (ESB spent nearly 50 years designing and building the national grid) and so of little value. The blogger, in contrast, expect his implicit privilige as a native speaker to be respected, even where it is of little use (or in the case of the Garda incident, probably unhelpful), and in the alleged arrest, he uses it to reverse the position of privilege felt by him as somebody with greater linguistic skills than the Garda in order to force the Garda to commit an injustice in order to ultimately, prove the "unworthiness" of the Garda to hold his post as a non native speaker: in other words, to reference the ludicrous suggestion that the language is "necessary" for all areas of public life in order to exclude and discriminate against the "other" - even though they are in fact the majority.
In doing so, the blogger does what legendary radical feminist Cathy Brennan and others do more aggressively with their campaigns against transsexual women: they turn their privilege as non gender disphoric women into a perceived "disadvantage" compared to the transwomens status as biologically "born males", even though it does not on any level advantage them on the gender continuum (and indeed is almost certainly, in their context, a disadvantage). This enables them to claim persecution from a perceived patriarchy which doesn't really exist, but in reality actually represents most disadvantaged folk than themselves.
Similarly, the truly disadvantaged of the lingual world in Ireland are those with poor educations, from working class backgrounds were educational attainment is not valued, and migrants who may already be struggled to cope as 2nd language speakers. What if the Garda in question was born and educated abroad? Would the situation still be one of somebody being "arrested for speaking Irish"? No, it would be a case of somebody of privilege enabling that privilege in order to disarm (politically) the Garda. The message is: that the non-Irish speaking Garda is "unworthy" of his/her position because he or she cannot speak the language. And that, is what that bloggers blog is truly about: highlighting the essential unworthiness and inferiority of the non Irish speaker in today's Ireland.
Hang on, you say, isn't Irish (or Gaelige), our native language? Enshrined as such in the constitution, empowered by law, every state agency there is having to hire many happy minions of adoring speakers (including some great friends) to ensure that happens?
Indeed it is, but read on.
This chap, anyway, claims to have been arrested, because when he was asked a question by a member of the Gardaí Síochána, they wouldn't (or probably couldn't) understand him, and he refused to speak in plain English.
So it appears that he was made accompany them to the nearest station, where he had to wait for a suitably competent Irish speaker to arrive, and continue whatever business it was in said language. The gentleman in question is now crying "discrimination." In fact he's a whole blog dedicated to it.
Bónapárt Ó Cúnasa had nothing on this.
It was a horrible aspect of colonial rule here that official business, regardless of your spoken tongue, was to be done as Bearla (in English). As a result, those who couldn't speak English were fundamentally disadvantaged, particularly before the courts, where there is significant evidence to suggest that people were tried and found guilty without even knowing what they were charged with. This was - of course - an appalling practice. Those who couldn't speak English couldn't partake in so much of society that by the tail end of the 19th century, considerable swathes of the populace no longer had a grasp of the language, and spoke only English. To such an extent, that pre-revival, it was seen as a mark of peasantry and impoverishment to do so (something which kind of lingers this day, to be honest).
Post independence, every effort was made to reinstate the mother tongue. As we know, it failed horribly and had unintended consequences. Native speakers were given grants, additional resources were put into native speaking regions to attempt to invigorate them (even artificially creating one, Rathcairn, in county Meath). Those who took examinations through the means of Irish were given bonus scores in order to incentivise education through Irish: one of a few very successful efforts. Funding was given to organisations promoting music, art etc, through the medium. Those in state jobs who had responsibilities involving Irish were rewarded for it. Hell, there were even jobs specifically for translations etc. Outside of education and arts, it didn't really succeed. Increasing urbanisation and the cultural dominance of Britain and the USA over Irish culture has largely denied traditional culture a full revival. In some ways, this has become a good thing.
For example, it is often, fairly, resented that native speakers are automatically given higher exam grades, because this conveys an advantage over similarly able students. Most particularly, it deliberately discriminates against those coming from outside Ireland or whose families are not Irish. I genuinely think this is unintentional: I don't think anybody sat there in the 1920s and specifically designed laws to prevent Germans or Italians from getting jobs in the civil service, etc, although there was a tacit intention to weed out Anglicism and force colonial English back to whence they came.
While rural areas still suffer crushing impoverishment as a result of isolation and the crawl of urbanisation, first language is no longer the primary determiner of disadvantage. Go to the very isolated part of the south west Donegal and listen to the kids talking: its not Irish that they speak. Their disadvantage is not due to language, but to geography, ignorance, clueless capitalist notions about investment, and sometimes, more than a little intransigence. The scourge of "ruralism as amenity" has probably done more harm than any other factor in recent decades (i.e. the horrible practice of living in an urban area while maintaining a "holiday home" in a rural region for leisure only - not the more beneficial practice of long range working, where people at least attempt to live in the rural area and work remotely or commute long distances). If anything, speaking Gaelige fluently is for many, a means to some small advantage.
The resentment against native speakers described in the blog is not atypical, but the result of years of relative discrimination against non speakers that resulted from well intentioned but flawed practices. My own father's education suffered badly because he could only get into an Irish-speaking school, but he didn't have sufficient Irish to learn properly so he failed his group cert and dropped out at 14 with no qualifications. Every other person I know who went to the same school did extremely well: indicating that the ability to speak fluently conveyed advantage on users. It also opened up whole areas of work previously unavailable: for example, if you are a mathematician or physicist and want to work in Met Eireann, having fluent Irish could be very useful indeed, for translating forecasts or data into Irish. It might sound ridiculous, but its true.
Some of you will be familiar with Hugo Hamilton's wonderful book (and subsequent play) "A Speckled People." Hamilton, the son of a Corkman and a German mother, describes in detail his father's fascist tendencies that led him to ban his children from speaking English or fraternising with English speakers, which horribly isolated them in south county Dublin. Dublin wasn't exactly crawling with German speakers and native speakers were thinner there in his fathers circles. Hamilton accurately examines the dichotomy between "official" Ireland and informal Ireland, where in practice, while Irish was a useful tool to advancement, English was essential for everyday life. He also examines the ugly fascist underbelly of his father's beliefs, and the tragic back stories buried behind his parents lives: that his grandfather was in the British naval service and his mother's sexual abuse in Germany at the hands of a high-ranking businessman.
But rightly, many people are angry at the effective result of some of policies. For example, you cannot work as a primary level teacher in this country, unless you can speak and teach Irish to a considerable level. This makes it very close to impossible for foreign teachers or those trained abroad to work at all in the primary sector. Think what this means: it means every single child in this country will be taught by somebody with a degree of fluency, who is almost certainly born and bred here. This, I suspect, is a very strong reason why despite atrocities of the extreme ends of the republican movement, the nationalist movement in its post-revival republican form has survived almost intact. Only in a very tiny handful of private schools will you see a different culture - or a small very large, progressive schools in urban Dublin (such the one I went to in Brackenstown - where you didn't see the Padraig Pearse posters or learn Amhrán na bhFiann - in fact I only learned it at the grand old age of 36 in a choir that was singing on the pitch for - ironically - a soccer match!)
To to some extent, the special place of the language and its speakers has both marginalised and advantaged it. In practice, there is a level of advantage open to speakers, should they wish to take advantage of it. In reality, most choose not to and just enjoy the language for its own self and as part of their heritage. Yet there is still a cultural hangover of the association of traditional culture with impoverishment, and a resultant fetishisation of misfortune along with it. Thus the blogger almost delights in his being (in his perception) maltreated by the Bearlachas, although the ludicrousness of the implicit colonial looking down on him is as nonsensical as it is (more plainly put) in Hamilton's biographical novel. Hamilton, in contrast, is plainly aware that the reason that his father is, for example, not lauded in the ESB for his Irishery, is not because his colleagues look down on him, but because either they don't actually speak the language or it is irrelevant to the work which they carry out (ESB spent nearly 50 years designing and building the national grid) and so of little value. The blogger, in contrast, expect his implicit privilige as a native speaker to be respected, even where it is of little use (or in the case of the Garda incident, probably unhelpful), and in the alleged arrest, he uses it to reverse the position of privilege felt by him as somebody with greater linguistic skills than the Garda in order to force the Garda to commit an injustice in order to ultimately, prove the "unworthiness" of the Garda to hold his post as a non native speaker: in other words, to reference the ludicrous suggestion that the language is "necessary" for all areas of public life in order to exclude and discriminate against the "other" - even though they are in fact the majority.
In doing so, the blogger does what legendary radical feminist Cathy Brennan and others do more aggressively with their campaigns against transsexual women: they turn their privilege as non gender disphoric women into a perceived "disadvantage" compared to the transwomens status as biologically "born males", even though it does not on any level advantage them on the gender continuum (and indeed is almost certainly, in their context, a disadvantage). This enables them to claim persecution from a perceived patriarchy which doesn't really exist, but in reality actually represents most disadvantaged folk than themselves.
Similarly, the truly disadvantaged of the lingual world in Ireland are those with poor educations, from working class backgrounds were educational attainment is not valued, and migrants who may already be struggled to cope as 2nd language speakers. What if the Garda in question was born and educated abroad? Would the situation still be one of somebody being "arrested for speaking Irish"? No, it would be a case of somebody of privilege enabling that privilege in order to disarm (politically) the Garda. The message is: that the non-Irish speaking Garda is "unworthy" of his/her position because he or she cannot speak the language. And that, is what that bloggers blog is truly about: highlighting the essential unworthiness and inferiority of the non Irish speaker in today's Ireland.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
HP BL460 G8 blades in Windows 2008R2 with 10g NICs
If you install Windows 2008R2 from an MDT prep done on a G6 or G7, you'll quickly spot the gaping hole where drivers should be for NIC drivers for the new broadcom 10GB network cards. Well, there is that, as I mentioned previously, plus another juicy problem with phantom iSCSI client devices appearing in device manager.
I haven't actually figured out how to install these if you need them, but if you are not, then you need to clear the yellow bangs that appear in device manager, because either you can't disable these or install a driver.
Here is the fix. Back in my early days on hands-on madness, HP used to supply the broadcom suite as standard for the nics. No longer, you need to manually install to disable these. Here's how:
I haven't actually figured out how to install these if you need them, but if you are not, then you need to clear the yellow bangs that appear in device manager, because either you can't disable these or install a driver.
Here is the fix. Back in my early days on hands-on madness, HP used to supply the broadcom suite as standard for the nics. No longer, you need to manually install to disable these. Here's how:
- To turn off the iSCSI offload
- Download the Broadcom ADvanced Control Suite from http://www.broadcom.com/support/ethernet_nic/netxtremeii10.php#mgmt_apps - end of page
- Install on the server with the card installed
- Open the control suite and change the filter to all view->configurations
- Expand the Port0 and port1 sections under "adapter 1" in the explorer view window
- Left ckick on the device [0076] HP 530FLB DP Virtual bus device
- If configurations view is selected you should see advance, resource reservations and licesnes - expand resource resarvations
- Click the configure button
- Here is the odd bit - the adapter is already "disabled" but not picking up as such in the OS - we need to disable it fully - tick the "disabled" box beside iSCSI under protocols and then unticket it again
- Click on "next" tab underneath
- You'll get a message warning you about disabling the nic - tick yes!
- After a few seconds your connectivity will reestablish itself
- Check device manager - the device with the yellow bang will disappear
- Repeat Steps for the port1 device - device manager will automatically removed the yellow banged out devices
You know your career is on a downward spiral when . . .
. . . you start describing yourself as "Ireland's top x/y/z."
Yesterday I received a well-timed (and probably well-deserved) verbal slap in the face from doyenne of gay bars in Dublin herself, who had lined up a gig with a washed out, bankrupt pop diva yet again attempting to make a comeback to the pop world. My comment, "Is she reduced to THIS?" was a tongue-in-cheek slap to what, in fairness, is actually quite a good public house, but do we really have to keep up with the showbiz trend of using gay bars to a) re-invent failed z-list celebs or b) give them a renewed lease of life on the pride circuit for the rest of your living days? Why can't we have QUALITY entertainment on the scene? And not just be used by the celebrity industry as a cheap way to get a few bums on seats or a few bob in their no-hoper pockets?
Oh yes, I've seen them. Mostly at Prides. The Vengaboys. The Cheeky Girls. Yer wan out of Steps.
You have to credit Sydney Lesbian and Gay Mardi Gras: there is one outfit which does NOT settle for the washed up failures of yesteryear, desperate for a buck and a well placed clap from a drunken (and frequently drug hazed) audience. Last year, they had the one and only Kylie Minogue: this year - its a secret! Their DJs include Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters fame. In Ireland, we have not only Eurotrash failures, we've failures of our own. The one successful product of Ireland's "scene", the inimitable, rude and rather wonderul (and successful) Katherine Lynch, should surely be asked along a wee bit more.
Anyway, its not unique to the gay scene, its a goer in opera too. I notice one travelling production next month has an Irish soprano playing a role in the supporting cast. Good for her. Except she has to top it off with the phrase "Ireland's leading soprano." Well I've news for you, Miss X. While you had one role in Klagenfurt last season, one of your Cork counterparts had 5 roles in Europe, including a Maria Stuarda in Bergamo, another Dublin sop has had 5 roles (Berlin and Rome included), another has done 4 runs which include a Senta which will go to Auckland.
The last soprano I regularly accompanied in my organist days (to me, the TRUE finest of the living crop of non-mezzos) has had 4 roles, but numerous Wigmore Hall recitals, concerts all over Europe, a couple of good, well received CDs and a notable Papagena on DVD from the ROH. Where are your DVDs, o egotistical soprano? Or for that matter, your big roles?
Meanwhile, the two international class mezzos, Bardon and Murray, continue to soar - Bardon's had 11 roles in 2 seasons, including 3 at the Met - and if only I'd sure-fire time off, I'd travel for her Carmen in LA in the autumn. Murray, supposedly "retired", has nevertheless managed to pull off at least 9 roles, and was in Budapest just week for a sell-out concert staging of something. And seems to be on the Wigmore hall every other week to boot. Will she actually retire I wonder?
So take that, egotistical soprano, when you're actually playing roles on the international stage THEN start talking about being "Ireland's leading soprano", not before.
Yesterday I received a well-timed (and probably well-deserved) verbal slap in the face from doyenne of gay bars in Dublin herself, who had lined up a gig with a washed out, bankrupt pop diva yet again attempting to make a comeback to the pop world. My comment, "Is she reduced to THIS?" was a tongue-in-cheek slap to what, in fairness, is actually quite a good public house, but do we really have to keep up with the showbiz trend of using gay bars to a) re-invent failed z-list celebs or b) give them a renewed lease of life on the pride circuit for the rest of your living days? Why can't we have QUALITY entertainment on the scene? And not just be used by the celebrity industry as a cheap way to get a few bums on seats or a few bob in their no-hoper pockets?
Oh yes, I've seen them. Mostly at Prides. The Vengaboys. The Cheeky Girls. Yer wan out of Steps.
You have to credit Sydney Lesbian and Gay Mardi Gras: there is one outfit which does NOT settle for the washed up failures of yesteryear, desperate for a buck and a well placed clap from a drunken (and frequently drug hazed) audience. Last year, they had the one and only Kylie Minogue: this year - its a secret! Their DJs include Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters fame. In Ireland, we have not only Eurotrash failures, we've failures of our own. The one successful product of Ireland's "scene", the inimitable, rude and rather wonderul (and successful) Katherine Lynch, should surely be asked along a wee bit more.
Anyway, its not unique to the gay scene, its a goer in opera too. I notice one travelling production next month has an Irish soprano playing a role in the supporting cast. Good for her. Except she has to top it off with the phrase "Ireland's leading soprano." Well I've news for you, Miss X. While you had one role in Klagenfurt last season, one of your Cork counterparts had 5 roles in Europe, including a Maria Stuarda in Bergamo, another Dublin sop has had 5 roles (Berlin and Rome included), another has done 4 runs which include a Senta which will go to Auckland.
The last soprano I regularly accompanied in my organist days (to me, the TRUE finest of the living crop of non-mezzos) has had 4 roles, but numerous Wigmore Hall recitals, concerts all over Europe, a couple of good, well received CDs and a notable Papagena on DVD from the ROH. Where are your DVDs, o egotistical soprano? Or for that matter, your big roles?
Meanwhile, the two international class mezzos, Bardon and Murray, continue to soar - Bardon's had 11 roles in 2 seasons, including 3 at the Met - and if only I'd sure-fire time off, I'd travel for her Carmen in LA in the autumn. Murray, supposedly "retired", has nevertheless managed to pull off at least 9 roles, and was in Budapest just week for a sell-out concert staging of something. And seems to be on the Wigmore hall every other week to boot. Will she actually retire I wonder?
So take that, egotistical soprano, when you're actually playing roles on the international stage THEN start talking about being "Ireland's leading soprano", not before.
Friday, February 22, 2013
An Open Letter to the London Irish Centre in Camden RE use as venue for "Radfem2013"
Dear LIC:
First may
I express my wholehearted thanks to you for support you showed to
myself and my former partner when I was in London in late 2001. It was a
time of my life of extreme hardship, unemployment, borderline
homelessness, and the advice and support that the centre offered to me
at that time was invaluable, and helped me cope with very difficult
personal circumstances. The centre is a fantastic resource for the
Irish and indeed the entire community, one which I hope continues to
exist for the sake of many people now forced into economic exile.Tuesday, February 19, 2013
A blast from the past
I had one of those nice warm fuzzy moments this weekend. I was up earlyish on Saturday, and while treating myself to the customary "I've-the-weekend-off" scrambled eggs on toast with big pot of tea, I turned on Sky Go. ESPN's "gold" channel was either on freeview/part of the subs, or whatever this weekend. They were showing vintage rugby from 2005's 6 nations tournament.
Now the one and only thing my last ex and I had in common was an interest in rugby. Really, honestly, that was it. Well, there was one two other things, but they're well below the boundary line for blogs, so really the rugby thing was a highly critical part of the relationship, a sort of common lynchpin through which we could actually enjoy SOMETHING in common without looking confused, cringing or biting one's tongue.
I recall the 2005 tournament well. We were in domestic bliss at the time, were pretty much in a good place all round. Anyway, we spent the championship weekends watching with two friends of the ex who were, shall we say, would have been perfect fodder for reality TV. The older one, a pure Norrie, had dumped her husband of a few years for a 17-year old co-worker in the seedy nightclub they worked in, and shortly ousted him out of the house for her teenage lover. You couldn't make it up. I christened them the "Glanmire Chavs." My tolerance gradually drained, over a long period of time.
Anyway I recall watching that particular Ireland/England game in either the pub in Glounthaune beside the shop or the one that serves food in Little Island, one of them is the "Rising Tide", I can't recall which. What I do recall was realising a) that the younger sister we were including in rounds of drink wasn't actually 18 (mentioning to my ex met a "don't mention the war" type response, sure enough, the poor kid was pregnant within a year) and b) that the alcoholic mother was actually starting to pass out.
Oh dear. I remember having to blank out the sense of "oh God" that I felt at the time.
Cue to 8 years down the road, and there's a real sense that I'm in a better place. None of this sense of acute embarrassment at the anti-social antics of people who are beyond criticism. None of this coercion to hang with people who really, you've no more in common with than the language you speak.
You know, there is an awful lot to be said for being single sometimes. I couldn't help feeling a sense of relief that I've brushed every last element of the cringe-factor out of my life - at least THAT kind of cringe-factor. My own stuff is a different matter, but at least I'm responsible for myself. If this entry seems like smug, snobbish cruelty, well perhaps it is. But how much should you have to endure outside of what you believe is the "way I live".
Now I'm about as classy as an ASBO, and I've been in a fair amount of trouble myself, and have behaved appallingly in public from time to time, but this was a normal afternoon in this terribly dysfunctional family and it was horrible to witness. So glad to be away from all of that, and so determined to never again draw myself back into that kind of company, whatever it means. But god, was it nice to feel I could live my life the way I want without being subjected to such a horrible environment. Never again will I let myself get dragged down like that.
Now the one and only thing my last ex and I had in common was an interest in rugby. Really, honestly, that was it. Well, there was one two other things, but they're well below the boundary line for blogs, so really the rugby thing was a highly critical part of the relationship, a sort of common lynchpin through which we could actually enjoy SOMETHING in common without looking confused, cringing or biting one's tongue.
I recall the 2005 tournament well. We were in domestic bliss at the time, were pretty much in a good place all round. Anyway, we spent the championship weekends watching with two friends of the ex who were, shall we say, would have been perfect fodder for reality TV. The older one, a pure Norrie, had dumped her husband of a few years for a 17-year old co-worker in the seedy nightclub they worked in, and shortly ousted him out of the house for her teenage lover. You couldn't make it up. I christened them the "Glanmire Chavs." My tolerance gradually drained, over a long period of time.
Anyway I recall watching that particular Ireland/England game in either the pub in Glounthaune beside the shop or the one that serves food in Little Island, one of them is the "Rising Tide", I can't recall which. What I do recall was realising a) that the younger sister we were including in rounds of drink wasn't actually 18 (mentioning to my ex met a "don't mention the war" type response, sure enough, the poor kid was pregnant within a year) and b) that the alcoholic mother was actually starting to pass out.
Oh dear. I remember having to blank out the sense of "oh God" that I felt at the time.
Cue to 8 years down the road, and there's a real sense that I'm in a better place. None of this sense of acute embarrassment at the anti-social antics of people who are beyond criticism. None of this coercion to hang with people who really, you've no more in common with than the language you speak.
You know, there is an awful lot to be said for being single sometimes. I couldn't help feeling a sense of relief that I've brushed every last element of the cringe-factor out of my life - at least THAT kind of cringe-factor. My own stuff is a different matter, but at least I'm responsible for myself. If this entry seems like smug, snobbish cruelty, well perhaps it is. But how much should you have to endure outside of what you believe is the "way I live".
Now I'm about as classy as an ASBO, and I've been in a fair amount of trouble myself, and have behaved appallingly in public from time to time, but this was a normal afternoon in this terribly dysfunctional family and it was horrible to witness. So glad to be away from all of that, and so determined to never again draw myself back into that kind of company, whatever it means. But god, was it nice to feel I could live my life the way I want without being subjected to such a horrible environment. Never again will I let myself get dragged down like that.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Jean Byrne watch
Its been quite a while since I last featured Jean Byrne. She continues to go from strength to strength, and sartorially delight the RTE News viewers. I see now RTE have finally enlightened themselves enough to place RTE player entries for Weather into a separate programme to the 6 and 9 news. That's nice for folk like myself who hear enough weeping and gnashing of teeth to have to bother listening to even more on the news. The front page does me fine, thankyouverymuch.
Anyway, at Christmas we had this delightful ensemble:
Anyway, at Christmas we had this delightful ensemble:
The weather, as you will no doubt have noticed, was shite. But thats always the case here.
Have a nice weekend!
Installing a spanking new HP BL460c G8 blade
HP's newer blades have some cracking specs and very good hardware to go with them, and are great for ESX: I installed a bunch of ESX blades in cluster as part of a scope out for my client's customer last year, and had a number of hiccups getting G7 blades to work with 4.0u4 of ESX, so I expected some bother in getting G8 to install Windows 2008R2 from an MDT based deployment. Here's how I sorted out the problems.
Access to the iLO 4.0
First you need to configure access to the iLO. Here's what to do to setup the enclosure ILO configuration
Logon to OA (thats the web page for the C7000 blade enclosure for you mere mortals)
Go to enclosure settings and expand the menu
Select "enclosure bay IP addresses"
Configure the IP settings for the device bay
Scroll to end of screen and click apply
-->note - you'll probably need to logon and logout - the (i) should disappear from the device image on the front view on the graphic display
You should now be able to access the iLO
Open the ILO and select web administration
Select administration-->network
Fill out the iLO subsystem name with the device's hostname
Windows MDT installation configuration:
Your older MDT config probably doesn't contain the drivers for the G8 NIC so this needs to be updated - the file to download from the HP website is cp018065.exe
Double click on the file and extract to a share accessible to the location where you are editing MDT from
Open the MDT workbench from the appropriate location
Open your MDT share
Add the extracted drivers to the additional drivers in MDT
I also updated my MDT boot image with an additional directory, to ensure that I can manually start the driver if WinPE didn't load it (this wasn't necessary - but if it didn't work, you should be able to cd to the additional directory - mine copied into C:\TEMP\1\MDTUpdate.3868\Mount\, press F8 from the command line when your MDT WinPE boot environment starts and cd to this location - type drvload evdb.inf which will load the HP driver for the NIC - netsh and other command based network tools should now see your dual headed NIC as "local area connection" and "local area connection 1")
Now close your MDT share and exit workbench - you should now have an updated boot image that will load the G8 NIC driver on startup
Access to the iLO 4.0
First you need to configure access to the iLO. Here's what to do to setup the enclosure ILO configuration
Logon to OA (thats the web page for the C7000 blade enclosure for you mere mortals)
Go to enclosure settings and expand the menu
Select "enclosure bay IP addresses"
Configure the IP settings for the device bay
Scroll to end of screen and click apply
-->note - you'll probably need to logon and logout - the (i) should disappear from the device image on the front view on the graphic display
You should now be able to access the iLO
Open the ILO and select web administration
Select administration-->network
Fill out the iLO subsystem name with the device's hostname
Windows MDT installation configuration:
Your older MDT config probably doesn't contain the drivers for the G8 NIC so this needs to be updated - the file to download from the HP website is cp018065.exe
Double click on the file and extract to a share accessible to the location where you are editing MDT from
Open the MDT workbench from the appropriate location
Open your MDT share
Add the extracted drivers to the additional drivers in MDT
I also updated my MDT boot image with an additional directory, to ensure that I can manually start the driver if WinPE didn't load it (this wasn't necessary - but if it didn't work, you should be able to cd to the additional directory - mine copied into C:\TEMP\1\MDTUpdate.3868\Mount\, press F8 from the command line when your MDT WinPE boot environment starts and cd to this location - type drvload evdb.inf which will load the HP driver for the NIC - netsh and other command based network tools should now see your dual headed NIC as "local area connection" and "local area connection 1")
Now close your MDT share and exit workbench - you should now have an updated boot image that will load the G8 NIC driver on startup
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
My 3 months of calm
Back in late November, just before the budget, I decided I was sick of it all. Sick of the negativity, sick of the viciousness, the so-called "river of bile", which I think is real, of a spew of hatred online, offline, in the papers, on the TV, the media in general. The pathetic, fawning pseudo-left decrying the misfortunes of the poor while they refuse to pay their household charge and acknowledge all of the nice things they've basically been granted by the very system which they purport to fight. No wonder, this weekend, we found that the good old Irish have rediscovered their love for the traitors who created all of the mess in the first place, Fianna Fail.
Anyway, I digress, because this last 3 months has ended up being hugely enriching.
I stuck reading the business and technical media - HBR, Wired, the New Yorker, the Gramophone. And being back "home" (well round the corner from home, in my own rented apartment), I'm near enough to the border to pick up a clear BBC FM signal and enjoy a few minutes of BBC Radio 3 at the beginning and end of my work commute. Otherwise, its mixed up CDs or Lyric FM.
I've unfollowed all of the negativos on Twitter. Even a few who were old friends or colleagues. I've bitten my tongue and persisted with one or two I like despite disagreeing profusely. I still read twitter of course, am as, well, unleashed as ever, and flamboyant on Facebook. I even, cheekily, befriended a few strangers I knew of, which has turned out to be a little interesting. Random strangers have befriended my on FB for years, and you know what, they have all turned out to be great people. So I thought it might be my turn to have a shot. One has turned out to be lovely, warm, kind - somebody who I met in person a few years back in my early MRSC days and have huge admiration for. The other, I've never met, and probably never will, but who has turned out to be a fragile, but gentle soul, and surprisingly sweet and funny.
As most of you who know me know, I've never abandoned classical music entirely. I still sing in the odd choir, play the odd accompaniment, even occasionally come out of "retirement" for the odd paid job. I miss it, sometimes, the sense of "closure" which you never really get in IT. But I like emergence as a concept, so I can live with it. I've enough happy memories and proud moments to be able to move on. Anyway, in last few years, I've been to the odd opera here and abroad, and living 5 minutes walk from Movies@, have got to a few Met, ROH and Paris broadcasts as well as others. The Met's Orfeo disappointed me, but I nearly bounced in my seat at a rivetting Lucia. A bizarre Salzburg Zauberflöte left me puzzled, and I wept with the rest of the audience at a La Boheme broadcast. I got to a live Fidelio in Budapest (where the kindest staff in the world insisted on ushering my mum who was on a stick at the time and myself through the backstage area to take advantage of the lifts to get to the cheap seats!!) And not long after I returned to Dublin in '10, I saw Orla Boylan's fine Tosca in Opera Ireland's last, sad, production.
Then I was driving home one day and heard Jennifer Larmore would be in town. I'd never have heard this had I still been listening to regular talk radio. I'd just got so fed up and pissed off, I switched over to Lyric FM instead. Well, what a good thing to do, in the end.
OOOOOOOHH.
If there is one thing I'm fond of, its what the late Dr Joe Groocock used to call the "low ladies." When I was 17 I watched a lady dressed as a guy sing while slitting her vein open in a Handel opera. It took years to figure out what I had seen, but I finally, recently, identified the singer as the late Lorraine Hunt (pre Lieberson days) as Sesto in Handel's Guilio Cesare in Eggito, in a Peter Sellars production filmed on studio. Its funny how these things always have a tie to something else, but 14 years later I was to re-discover Hunt-Lieberson in my cheap flat in Cork, while listening to the radio while my then girlfriend was out at work. It was her recording of the aria from Theodora, "As with rosy steps the morn", something that tore open the barely (and necessarily) supressed feelings from June 2002 when I abandoned my previous girlfriend in London, out of concern for my own safety and sanity, and came back to Ireland to fix my ruined life. A few months previously, before I'd been introduced to my then girlfriend, I was working on a London site, on a data centre job. The previous week I'd been listening to the afternoon programme on 3 and had heard a very enjoyable interview with American mezzo Jennifer Larmore. I'd enjoyed it so much that when I was in London the following week I'd dropped by the opera shop at ENO and bought a few CDs of Larmore - the one I liked best of course was her Barber of Seville.
Anyway, I was very, very upset when Hunt Lieberson passed away from cancer in 2006, all too soon. Around 2007 or so I was reading the Gramophone one day when this apparition caught my eye. And it would yours too no doubt. The lovely apparition on the right is the smouldering Elina Garanca, rightful heir to the throne of Vaselina Kasarova, who I also discovered at some point but can't for the life of me remember exactly why. (All I know is I've had some of her late 90s recordings for like, years). I think it might have been around the obligatory von Otter phase in the late 90s.
So anyway, a chance to hear a singer I'd liked a lot for years was very appealing. As it happened, I also won a pair of tickets to the Ireland/Argentina match in Lansdowne Rd. So I turned up in the NCH on what was a patrons night of old dears dressed in their very best, with me in scruffy jeans and an Ireland jersey. Well I didn't care, I was there for the music, not to be seen. It was good, very enjoyable, though the NCH isn't a great acoustic for the voice, unless its gigantic or a screamer. But that was it, I was back to my old habits. Once more. Scour the net for voices I hadn't heard, now with this new fangled stuff of streaming and youtube. Well, what a treat.
But it was only then, that I started to realise what I'd missed along the way. Sarah Connolly. Angela Kirkschlager. Joyce DiDonato. Kate Lindsay. Alice Coote. No wait. Alice Coote? HOW, I asked myself, did I manage to miss such an exciting, thrilling voice? So much so, I decided to dump my notion of St Patrick's day in Roma at the 6 Nations clash against Italy, and go hear Coote sing the role of Leonora in La Favorite in Paris this past weekend. I was not disappointed. Coote has, aside from a wonderful, distinct voice, and a lovely, almost melancholic interpretative style; really strong acting skills. You believe in her characters, you feel for them and with them, you find yourself drawn in to their world, however awful their suffering might be. You're grabbed by both shoulders and made feel their ecstasy, their agony, their despair. No wonder she seems to be fleadhed after a performance, its very complete. Will certainly have to go again and be wrenched into a fantasy world for a bit.
So next, I've a bunch of tickets (already) for a broadcast of Eugene Onegin at Covent Garden (I thought of going, but at that stage remaining tickets were £100 up and figured, well I've already forked out about 400 euro plus travel on various operas). I've seen about 2 broadcasts so far this year (La Boheme from ROH, and a boozy evening at Maria Stuarda from the Met, which I greatly enjoyed). Next up I might go see "Dancing Dani" at the NCH (I have to say I liked her Cleo from Glyndebourne a few years back, though Susan Larson is my favourite Cleo, with her cheeky gold lame bikini and dreadlocks), then there is a Moscow State Opera Carmen at the BGE Theatre, a venue I've yet to visit. I'm finishing a contract end of March, and will kill a week in New York, where I'll get a rake of good artists in Guilio Cesare at the Met, but I also have a ticket for Joseph Cajella at the NCH, courtesy of the arseholes in ERC rugby who stuck Munster in the Sunday slot for the Heineken Cup quarters, making me delay my outbound trip to the last possible weekend flight. So thats a helluva lot of opera. I caught the OTC Cosi fan Tutte at the Sam Beckett in TCD - great little fun production, and sung in English, so very accessible.
Its all your fault, by the way, Simon Trezise, for teaching a very enjoyable course to us Music majors on 19th century opera back in the early 90s that led to a passion for Wagner, great singing, and fine stagecraft.
So, when I see stuff like the slightly farcical case of the dreadful Clare Daly being stopped for drinking and driving in a newspaper front down at the shops, or Ming the idiot being accused of taking LSD (mind you, I'm not comfortable with the idea of punishing people for taking drugs in the past: its not something you can undo), when I hear the laughable hyprocrisy of Shane Ross being revealed at having plámásed the former Anglo Irish Bank in newspaper article conveniently now behind a paywall while he bleats the "burn the bondholder" drum alongside other misery milkers, I seriously wonder do I really want to hear any more reality. I do read the Monocle for a bit of business and positive international news. I like their online radio station also, as well as the wonderful SomaFM, and a few classical stations I found in Italy 2 years ago.
I will say that the one exception I can tolerate is George Hook. Maybe its the rugby connection, I dunno, but I find Hookie doesn't pretend to be unbiased, I like the way he is upfront about his beliefs, so at least you know where his standpoint is. I hate these Fionntan O Wheeze merchants who pretend to be on everybodies side, but really, its hard to say what they really represent. And the Irish Times has become utterly unbearable since Madame Editor's retirement, back are the fawning property porn pages and glowing reviews of bog hotels in the middle of nowhere charging 300 a night for a poncy spa and copycat dinner. Even Marc Coleman is more endurable than many of the broadcasters at the moment.
So I'm shticking to my Radio 3 thankyouverymuch.
Anyway, I digress, because this last 3 months has ended up being hugely enriching.
I stuck reading the business and technical media - HBR, Wired, the New Yorker, the Gramophone. And being back "home" (well round the corner from home, in my own rented apartment), I'm near enough to the border to pick up a clear BBC FM signal and enjoy a few minutes of BBC Radio 3 at the beginning and end of my work commute. Otherwise, its mixed up CDs or Lyric FM.
I've unfollowed all of the negativos on Twitter. Even a few who were old friends or colleagues. I've bitten my tongue and persisted with one or two I like despite disagreeing profusely. I still read twitter of course, am as, well, unleashed as ever, and flamboyant on Facebook. I even, cheekily, befriended a few strangers I knew of, which has turned out to be a little interesting. Random strangers have befriended my on FB for years, and you know what, they have all turned out to be great people. So I thought it might be my turn to have a shot. One has turned out to be lovely, warm, kind - somebody who I met in person a few years back in my early MRSC days and have huge admiration for. The other, I've never met, and probably never will, but who has turned out to be a fragile, but gentle soul, and surprisingly sweet and funny.
As most of you who know me know, I've never abandoned classical music entirely. I still sing in the odd choir, play the odd accompaniment, even occasionally come out of "retirement" for the odd paid job. I miss it, sometimes, the sense of "closure" which you never really get in IT. But I like emergence as a concept, so I can live with it. I've enough happy memories and proud moments to be able to move on. Anyway, in last few years, I've been to the odd opera here and abroad, and living 5 minutes walk from Movies@, have got to a few Met, ROH and Paris broadcasts as well as others. The Met's Orfeo disappointed me, but I nearly bounced in my seat at a rivetting Lucia. A bizarre Salzburg Zauberflöte left me puzzled, and I wept with the rest of the audience at a La Boheme broadcast. I got to a live Fidelio in Budapest (where the kindest staff in the world insisted on ushering my mum who was on a stick at the time and myself through the backstage area to take advantage of the lifts to get to the cheap seats!!) And not long after I returned to Dublin in '10, I saw Orla Boylan's fine Tosca in Opera Ireland's last, sad, production.
Then I was driving home one day and heard Jennifer Larmore would be in town. I'd never have heard this had I still been listening to regular talk radio. I'd just got so fed up and pissed off, I switched over to Lyric FM instead. Well, what a good thing to do, in the end.
OOOOOOOHH.
If there is one thing I'm fond of, its what the late Dr Joe Groocock used to call the "low ladies." When I was 17 I watched a lady dressed as a guy sing while slitting her vein open in a Handel opera. It took years to figure out what I had seen, but I finally, recently, identified the singer as the late Lorraine Hunt (pre Lieberson days) as Sesto in Handel's Guilio Cesare in Eggito, in a Peter Sellars production filmed on studio. Its funny how these things always have a tie to something else, but 14 years later I was to re-discover Hunt-Lieberson in my cheap flat in Cork, while listening to the radio while my then girlfriend was out at work. It was her recording of the aria from Theodora, "As with rosy steps the morn", something that tore open the barely (and necessarily) supressed feelings from June 2002 when I abandoned my previous girlfriend in London, out of concern for my own safety and sanity, and came back to Ireland to fix my ruined life. A few months previously, before I'd been introduced to my then girlfriend, I was working on a London site, on a data centre job. The previous week I'd been listening to the afternoon programme on 3 and had heard a very enjoyable interview with American mezzo Jennifer Larmore. I'd enjoyed it so much that when I was in London the following week I'd dropped by the opera shop at ENO and bought a few CDs of Larmore - the one I liked best of course was her Barber of Seville.
Anyway, I was very, very upset when Hunt Lieberson passed away from cancer in 2006, all too soon. Around 2007 or so I was reading the Gramophone one day when this apparition caught my eye. And it would yours too no doubt. The lovely apparition on the right is the smouldering Elina Garanca, rightful heir to the throne of Vaselina Kasarova, who I also discovered at some point but can't for the life of me remember exactly why. (All I know is I've had some of her late 90s recordings for like, years). I think it might have been around the obligatory von Otter phase in the late 90s.
So anyway, a chance to hear a singer I'd liked a lot for years was very appealing. As it happened, I also won a pair of tickets to the Ireland/Argentina match in Lansdowne Rd. So I turned up in the NCH on what was a patrons night of old dears dressed in their very best, with me in scruffy jeans and an Ireland jersey. Well I didn't care, I was there for the music, not to be seen. It was good, very enjoyable, though the NCH isn't a great acoustic for the voice, unless its gigantic or a screamer. But that was it, I was back to my old habits. Once more. Scour the net for voices I hadn't heard, now with this new fangled stuff of streaming and youtube. Well, what a treat.
But it was only then, that I started to realise what I'd missed along the way. Sarah Connolly. Angela Kirkschlager. Joyce DiDonato. Kate Lindsay. Alice Coote. No wait. Alice Coote? HOW, I asked myself, did I manage to miss such an exciting, thrilling voice? So much so, I decided to dump my notion of St Patrick's day in Roma at the 6 Nations clash against Italy, and go hear Coote sing the role of Leonora in La Favorite in Paris this past weekend. I was not disappointed. Coote has, aside from a wonderful, distinct voice, and a lovely, almost melancholic interpretative style; really strong acting skills. You believe in her characters, you feel for them and with them, you find yourself drawn in to their world, however awful their suffering might be. You're grabbed by both shoulders and made feel their ecstasy, their agony, their despair. No wonder she seems to be fleadhed after a performance, its very complete. Will certainly have to go again and be wrenched into a fantasy world for a bit.
So next, I've a bunch of tickets (already) for a broadcast of Eugene Onegin at Covent Garden (I thought of going, but at that stage remaining tickets were £100 up and figured, well I've already forked out about 400 euro plus travel on various operas). I've seen about 2 broadcasts so far this year (La Boheme from ROH, and a boozy evening at Maria Stuarda from the Met, which I greatly enjoyed). Next up I might go see "Dancing Dani" at the NCH (I have to say I liked her Cleo from Glyndebourne a few years back, though Susan Larson is my favourite Cleo, with her cheeky gold lame bikini and dreadlocks), then there is a Moscow State Opera Carmen at the BGE Theatre, a venue I've yet to visit. I'm finishing a contract end of March, and will kill a week in New York, where I'll get a rake of good artists in Guilio Cesare at the Met, but I also have a ticket for Joseph Cajella at the NCH, courtesy of the arseholes in ERC rugby who stuck Munster in the Sunday slot for the Heineken Cup quarters, making me delay my outbound trip to the last possible weekend flight. So thats a helluva lot of opera. I caught the OTC Cosi fan Tutte at the Sam Beckett in TCD - great little fun production, and sung in English, so very accessible.
Its all your fault, by the way, Simon Trezise, for teaching a very enjoyable course to us Music majors on 19th century opera back in the early 90s that led to a passion for Wagner, great singing, and fine stagecraft.
So, when I see stuff like the slightly farcical case of the dreadful Clare Daly being stopped for drinking and driving in a newspaper front down at the shops, or Ming the idiot being accused of taking LSD (mind you, I'm not comfortable with the idea of punishing people for taking drugs in the past: its not something you can undo), when I hear the laughable hyprocrisy of Shane Ross being revealed at having plámásed the former Anglo Irish Bank in newspaper article conveniently now behind a paywall while he bleats the "burn the bondholder" drum alongside other misery milkers, I seriously wonder do I really want to hear any more reality. I do read the Monocle for a bit of business and positive international news. I like their online radio station also, as well as the wonderful SomaFM, and a few classical stations I found in Italy 2 years ago.
I will say that the one exception I can tolerate is George Hook. Maybe its the rugby connection, I dunno, but I find Hookie doesn't pretend to be unbiased, I like the way he is upfront about his beliefs, so at least you know where his standpoint is. I hate these Fionntan O Wheeze merchants who pretend to be on everybodies side, but really, its hard to say what they really represent. And the Irish Times has become utterly unbearable since Madame Editor's retirement, back are the fawning property porn pages and glowing reviews of bog hotels in the middle of nowhere charging 300 a night for a poncy spa and copycat dinner. Even Marc Coleman is more endurable than many of the broadcasters at the moment.
So I'm shticking to my Radio 3 thankyouverymuch.
Dishonour
She lay there, prostrate in front of the crowd. In the same dress she’d been married in only hours
ago. He’d rudely thrown her into the
dirt in front of them. In his shame, and
her shame. Only hours ago she’d thought his
love was firm, knowing of her past.
Until she’d learned that he’d still not known.
Now it was too late.
In silence she lay there, the crowd gone, still with her
fingers in the dirt, her long brown hair thrown forward to hide her
tear-stained face. Hiding her
shame. Hiding her guilt.
And then she slowly crawled to her feet, slowly dragged her
exhausted body upwards, her body that had known such forbidden delights, born
her master so many sons. Children of
her disgrace and dishonour.
She looked down at her worn body. She was beautiful, yes, many years behind her
true age. She buried her hands into the
folds of her garment in horror and pulled and dragged at the beautiful
material. Her eyes showed not horror,
but despair. This body, what it had done? And yet, she loved him still. She could not bear to think of his pain any
more than her own.
And she cried tears of pain that nobody heard in her
silence.
Then she went to find him again, to die in his presence.
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