Archive for August, 2010

I blame Twitter

August 31st, 2010

The Irish Blog Awards are held every year around March.

Along with the Blog Awards, we have the annual angst as to whether blogging is dead in Ireland.

I am beginning to think it probably is.

Recently I did a bit of tidying and unsubscribed to a load of sites.  I did so, because a load of them were effectively dead.  I am now down to a mere 161 subscriptions. 

In the past, I used to fire up my old laptop to see what was going on in the world, and I would be inundated with new posts.  It used to take quite a while to read ‘em all.  That flood is down to a mere trickle now, and most of the trickle is from overseas.  There is still a handful of Irish sites that is updated daily but it is a mighty small handful.

When I started writing nearly four years ago, there seemed to be a new Irish site appearing every day.  I noticed too that the vast majority of the people who visited here were Irish.  It used to work out that for every two Irish visitors, there was one American and the rest of the world was way down the scale.  That has changed dramatically.  Now for every Irish visitor, I get at least one from the UK and at least two from America.  In other words, my Irish readership has dropped into a comfortable second place and occasionally into third.  In fact, nearly half my readership is from the States now, which is somewhat surprising considering the way I used to slate them. 

I have often idly pondered on the reasons for this change.  It’s not that I have gained a massive following from overseas, but more a case of losing a lot of Irish readers with the slack being taken up elsewhere.  I’m not complaining.  Everyone is welcome, though I’m still not quite sure why so many people want to read my regular musings.

Maybe it’s because Ireland is going through so many crises for the last couple of years that the Irish have just become numb with apathy?  One can only handle so much in the way of scandals, financial disasters and incompetence before just becoming immune to it all and saying ‘what’s the fucking point in arguing’?

Or maybe it’s that fucking Twitter thing?

Yes.

I blame Twitter.

Bring me sunshine

August 30th, 2010

It never fails.

Every year we have two guaranteed fine spells.  The first is in June and the other is in September.

The two periods are so reliable that I can book any holidays months in advance.  This year, for example we chose the June slot, and the weather was fabulous.

These two fine spells have fuck all to do with climate or meteorology.  All you global warming freaks can forget about claiming credit for them.  They are not determined by the wind, pressure, sunshine or any of that shite.  They are caused by one thing and one thing only.  The Department of Education, with a little help from God.

To those not familiar with the Irish world of academia, the Department of Education hold the Leaving Certificate exams in June, and the one time the school kids would give their eye-teeth to be on holidays, the weather decides to have a heat wave, just to rub salt in the wound.  And the fine weather in September?  That of course coincides with the return to school.

There are those who say that God hates Ireland.  Nah!  They are way off the mark.  God just hates Irish children, which is perfectly understandable as a lot of them are fairly unlikable.  They are a loud, uncouth disrespectful bunch.

What I would like to see is a bit of cooperation between God and the Department of Education.

Why can’t the Leaving Certificate start in May and last until the end of August?  Why do the kids have to return on one day?  Why can’t we force the little bastards to return every day from September until November?

Just think.

No obnoxious kids cluttering up the place? 

And glorious weather for the whole summer.

Sunday lessons

August 29th, 2010

I had a very busy but very productive afternoon.

I was looking after a couple of the grandchildren, and decided it was time to expand their ever increasing vocabulary that little bit further.

I think their mother will be delighted when she hears their new repertoire.

The air will soon be thick with the sounds of “fuck”, “cunt” and “bollix”.

And I would love to see her happy face when my granddaughter tells the neighbour’s kid that he has a face like Harney’s scrotum.

I have to prove I’m not a teenager

August 28th, 2010

There are times when I really seriously don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Now, I don’t like shops, and as far as I am aware, they don’t like me, so to avoid this mutual conflict, I do all my shopping on line.  The one shop I detest above all others is the supermarket, with its wobbly trolley, screaming kids, blocked aisles, piped ‘music’  and its queues, so for as long as I can remember I have done the weekly grocery shop on line as well.  I put in an order last night, and the delivery van has just come and gone.

The delivery chap was very helpful and efficient.  He brought all the stuff into the kitchen table, as always, but unlike all previous deliveries, he then stood looking very ill at ease.  I actually thought he was going to cry.

“I am very very sorry,” says he, “but I have to ask you something.”

“Ask away,” I said as I started putting stuff in cupboards.

“I have to ask you for identification if there is drink or tobacco in the order.”

That is where I didn’t know whether to laugh or join him in his distress and misery.

“Are you worried I might be under eighteen?” I asked.

He coughed and shifted onto the other foot. “Twenty one, actually” I don’t think I have ever seen anyone look so uncomfortable before.

Now, I suppose if you met me in a pitch black room, you could be excused for mistaking my age, but in broad daylight, I think the grey hair and beard, along with a few wrinkles here and there might give the game away.  I showed him a photograph of myself.  He was so relieved to be shown anything that he accepted proof that I was who I said I was.

He then went on to apologise some more, and to explain that he was just obeying orders [where have I heard that before?] and that he would have to ask me for identification every single time I get a delivery in future. He said that he is not allowed to use his own discretion and always has to see identity.  Apparently the fact that he knows me doesn’t count. 

I presume this is because of that damned programme on RTE the other night where they bribed some kids to order drink on line from supermarket and off licences.  In the programme, the orders were delivered without question.  Now we all have to fucking suffer.  I really am getting pissed of with all of this fucking nannying.  I have to produce papers now if I want to order groceries.  I have to undergo a fucking grilling from a pharmacist if I want to buy anything with codeine in it.  What the fuck are they going to dream up next?

Am I going to have to weigh myself in front of the delivery man if I order anything with calories in it?

Am I going to have to produce a driving licence, tax and insurance certificates and proof of ownership before I can buy petrol? 

This is the first time the Nanny State has actually entered my property.

I doubt it will be the last.

Spreading the terror

August 27th, 2010

A while ago, I came across a question posed on a website.

How long do you have to ‘second hand’ smoke before you develop lung cancer? I heard it can happen if you’re around a smoker at least one time. And what if you’re also twenty years old? When will the lung cancer be developed then? Is there still a chance of getting lung cancer if you’re riding in the car with all the windows open? Or if you’re in an open space?

What struck me about this was the appalling ignorance out there on the subject of cancer and smoking.  This is a lack of knowledge that is fostered and nurtured by the anti-smoker brigade, despite the fact that it terrifies people into believing the most absurd ideas.

In the case above, the questioner seems to give credence to the idea that a person can die from cancer after being in the presence of a smoker just once.` I decided to sniff around a little more, and found such definitive claims that “smoking just one cigarette can cause cancer” and one real classic – “If you want to kill yourself, you don’t even have to smoke. Just stand next to someone who does, each time they go outside for a cigarette. In about a year or so you will be unable to breathe without a respirator and without intensive medical treatment every day, you will die pretty early in life.”  These idiotic statements are grist to the mill for the Anti Brigade as, despite the fact that people are being terrified for no reason whatsoever, they promote the vilification of the smoker.

To return to the original question, the questioner wanted to know the risks of riding in a car with all the windows open.  It is laughable to suggest that there is any concentration whatsoever of smoke under that circumstance, yet I recently read somewhere [maybe someone out there can tell me where?] that ASH have stated categorically that opening car windows does not clear the air in a car, as the smoke immediately blows back in again.  That statement is so patently absurd that a five year old would laugh at it, yet it is put out into the public domain to foster further fears.

Let us assume for one brief moment that cigarettes are as deadly as they claim, and that sitting in a car with the windows wide open can cause cancer, then can someone please explain to me how the primary smoker is still alive after his or her first twenty cigarettes?

The reason of course that the Antis love such misinformation is that it fosters a fear, not of cigarettes but of the smoker. 

I baffles me how the Antis can gat away with such fear mongering, when the truth is out there.

Would you accept the conclusions of the BMJ?  A study of over 100,000 people over a period of 39 years?  That would seem to be fairly comprehensive, and their findings?  “The results do not support a causal relation between environmental tobacco smoke and tobacco related mortality”

Would you accept the findings of the World Health Organisation? 

Or would you rather believe that spending a day in the open air with a smoker is going to lead to a horrible, painful death?

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