Flight

At last, the semester is over. The last couple of weeks was immensely stressful, even if I forced myself to take it slowly – think, wee b, think! Use your head! A simple command, but with water leaking in everywhere, keeping head above said was not trivial. I remind myself now and then that this is – in the large context of things – a fart in cosmos. Soon I am off – going to rellies in Denmark, play with kids, eat duck and drink scnapps. Read the rest »

Northern Irelands silly ghosts. Attempted murder, hahaha!

I admit I don’t really keep up with Northern Irish news much these days. It’s either desperately provincial – or just plain desperate. Yes, someone planted a bomb the other day, and yes, somebody got hurt. And I’m sure the obscure rural radio show is still going on without me. So. Some things never change.
But the other day, I got tangled in a BBC-infused NI-news-net. And some old skeletons dropped out of the closet. Good old names like Michael Stone and Mad Dog Adair.
Gerry Adams and Martin McGunniess nearly had their parlamentary meeting disturbed by Michael Stone, the old rascal, who wanted to slit the throats of the Shinners. Seriously. No kidding.

Michael Stone – exceptionally bad haircut and not-a-winning personality – stuck his nose out again, and this is a good wan!

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media – gossip central and major irony

I don’t read papers much anymore, I don’t have a telly.

In fact, I have been sans telly for …oh.. the main part of the last sixteen years. I had a telly the first four years, I used it as a pedestal for potted plants and asian souvenirs, considered making a fish-tank out of it, and watched, hungover, all in all four hours of the good Sir David Attenborough. I had it for months before I turned it on to figure out if it was colour or black and white. The thing is: some things on telly are good. Some first class stuff. But it is surrounded by trash. So either you turn it on – default – and accidentally bump into something good,… or… I simply forgot when to turn it on for the good stuff.
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