Saturday, 5 January 2008


Rockall Diary:

The loneliness of the long-distance islet
Inside the head of the world's remotest outcrop. The following is an extract of the so-called "Rockall Diary", chronicling highs and lows of life as the world's remotest islet. It includes the innermost thoughts of the North Atlantic outcrop, as well as some profound philosophical revelations which attempt to answer the question surrounding the very nature of being: What the bloody hell am I doing here?


17 July 2003: Jesus H. Christ I am so fuc*king bored. Three years since the last ship crossed my path and just the same old shit from the albatrosses giving it all that about having spent the last six months in the Pacific. Out here we have 170 different words for "grey", but trust me once you've been watching the Atlantic from horizon to horizon for millions of years, one grey looks pretty much the same as any other.

18 July: To my absolute amazement and delight, a group of men approached this morning in a 40-ft yacht, manually inflated a tiny rubber raft and attempted a landing on my near-vertical shores. After several hilarious attempts to land the silly sods gave up and returned to whatever godforsaken place they came from. Shame, I was hoping we could do lunch and catch up on some gossip which did not come from a fuc*king albatross.

19 July: Spotted a distant whisky bottle bobbing gently on the swell. Thought immediately of yesterday's visitors but on closer inspection it turned out to contain nothing more than an "SOS to the World", apparently written by someone called "Sting". Bloody awful name.

3 September: Got shat on by three thousand migrating sea birds. Enjoyed that thoroughly. Really. Better than Wash'n'Go.

7 October: Did some solid work of eroding in today's tradewinds. I used to be 3000 metres tall, you know, and I can remember when it was all fields round here. Now there's just 25 metres of me left above the relentless monotony of the Atlantic. Each passing gust of wind and each wave carries a little bit more of me into oblivion. I calculate I will only have to put up with this view for another 3.2 million years before sinking heroically beneath the waves, which cheers me up immensely.

13 November: Tried to spot one of the outer Hebrides through a light drizzle. Then remembered I haven't laid eyes on another piece of land for millennia. Thought I saw the lights of St Kilda through the darkness, which got me musing on the terrible price one must pay to live on the edge of the world. Reminded of some Vikings who sailed by around 1,000 years back, heading West. Saw them again two years later, complaining about a "New World" and its crap food and shocking levels of gun crime.

19 November: Watched a sealion start a punch-up with a pack of belligerent orca over a herring. Sometimes the struggle for survival is an uneven one. And sometimes sealions — who aren't the sharpest chisel in the mammalian toolbox at the best of times — surpass even my world-weary expectations of stupidity. While they were going at it hammer-and-tongs, the herring made good its escape, eventually taunting the whole enraged group of belligerents from a safe distance with the most appalling language. God alone knows what Darwin would have made of it all.

24 December: Spent Christmas Eve playing spot-the-illegal-oil-exploration-vessel with a drifting iceberg. I won 27 to 24. Afterwards, the majestic floating ice castle asked me if I'd like to join him on a trip to the Equator. I said no, and strongly advised him against the plan. Of course, he ignored me. Ah, the impetuousness of youth.

7 January: Getting paranoid and lonely. Miss the old days. Even that lot from Greenpeace who came and gave me a big hug a few years back. I vaguely remember the British Navy visiting once. It was less of the hugging in those days — the buggers dynamited my top off and attached plaque claiming me for "Britain". God alone knows where that might be.

19 January: I'm old and tired and I need something to see me thorugh my retirement. So, finally signed a contract giving a bunch of drunks the rights to exploit my name for humorous purposes in perpetuity. In return I'll be the centre of world attention yet again. They also asked me if I happened to have a working Content Management System lying about, whatever that is. Said no, would could a gannet do the job instead?

9 February: It's good to be back in the public eye. Of course, there's a downside: boatloads of tourists coming for a nose with their digital camcorders and whining children. Worst still, got a call from Ryanair asking if I'd like to offer a €10m "incentive" for the airline to operate low-cost flights out to the North Atlantic. Politely declined. Clouds are gathering to the West, promising rain.

Coming soon Diary: My wild, wild youth as volcanic pre-Cambrian hot-head

Rockall was yesterday gripped by polemic fever as bewildered locals struggled to make sense of the latest nominations for the foremost conceptual art prize which will see a shed, a video of someone's granny, a room full of junk and some paintings battle it out or the top spot.

"It's not about whether it's art or not, it's designed to provoke debate about the very nature of art".

"So what do you think of this year's nominations" "I hear one of 'em's a bloody painting."

"Total arse," replied Leveret. "The whole lot of it's total arse except for the arse by that Gillian Carnegie. No-one minds a nice bit of arse hanging over the mantlepiece after a long day at the EU subsidy forms."

"Can't argue with that" enthused one young man taking a moment from pumping the Hirst's Helter-Skelter fruit machine. "The western art tradition is all for plenty of arse. Nothing like a rounded rump bent over the coal-effect fire to welcome you home after a hard day at the guano workings. Proper arse, like that Rubens bloke. He had a handle on arse, make no mistake."

"Who wants to come home to a conceptual German shed over the one-bar electric fire when you can sink yourself into a proper pair of buttocks while savouring your Pot Noodle?"

Dave's analysis met with a general roar of approval from the entire establishment which immediately prompted a reproduction of Carnegie's Turner-nominated backside from the Mail on Sunday.

"Doesn't look much like a sow's arse to me," commented the local vicar, supping a well-earned sherry following a demanding day attempting to convert cockle-pickers to Christianity "in the sure hope of resurrection in the hereafter, ie, about ten minutes after high tide".

"Jesus H. Christ he's right," spluttered our frutie-playing friend. "It's a fuc*king bloke's arse."

"A fuc*king bloke's arse you say?" thundered Leveret. "And they call that fuc*king art?"

...a picture of Rockall as photographed from space by the crew of Columbia during its last mission can be seen above. The second Blessed Isle is clearly visible in this stunning photograph and has an underground connection with Ireland, about halfway between that little bumpy protrusion of continental shelf and those weird disconnected islandy bits off to the upper left of Ireland. Good to know that NASA, is doing something useful but one wishes they'd used a somewhat longer lens.

Friday, 4 January 2008

Pecker Dunne mcalpines fusiliers

This clip includes a photo of Maggie Barry the famous street singer and orginal Irish recording artist, of traditional music. She had a fine voice and could throw it better than any modern microphone. She was also known as Queen of the Gypsies. Pecker Dunne was also sometimes known as the last of the original travellers. Besides singing at fairs, they used to sell sheet music of old Irish ballads and they were part of a small group responsible for keeping the traditonl music alive when it almost died out. The famous box player Joe Burke also played regularly with them in music sessions all over the Ireland,in the States and England.

Irish Citizens Army

Séamus Ó Coisdealbha

Píosa gairid faoi Shéamus Ó Coistealbha (Costello) agus bunú an IRSP i 1974. Ón chlár "Faoi Lámha an Stáit".

(A short piece on Séamus Costello and the forming of the IRSP in 1974. From the programme "Faoi Lámhá an Stáit".)

Tony Gregory, Osgur Breatnach, Íte Ní Chionnaith

Travellers of Ireland

Irish Travellers are a very small minority group in Ireland, constituting less than 1% of the population. Their numbers currently stand at approx. 23,000 people in the Republic and another 1,500 in the North. There are also an estimated 15,000 Irish Travellers in England, Scotland and Wales and 7,000 in the U.S.A.
The population structure of the Traveller community resembles that of a third world country, with large numbers of children and very few in the older age group. Poor health status, compounded by racist policies and practices, and exclusion from mainstream society are the causes of this situation. 50% of the population is under 15 years. Some health statistics revealed by the Health Status Report of the Health Research Board in 1987 are worth quoting;

Travellers have more than double the national rate of stillbirths.

Infant mortality rates are three times higher than the national rate.

Traveller women live, on average, 12 years less than settled women.

Traveller men live, on average, 10 years less than settled men.

Travellers' life expectancy is now at the level that settled people reached in the 1940's.
These are the statistics of racism, clearly demonstrating that Travellers' lives are effected in the most basic ways by their exclusion and marginalisation. Statistics relating to their educational levels reveal the same pariah status. Less than 14% currently make it into post-primary education and the number who have made it into third level can still be counted on one hand. The majority of the adults, 80%, are illiterate.

The Irish Travellers are the original direct decendants of the bronze age Irish tribes, their culture and language pre-date the settled folks (buffers).

Planxty - Cliffs of Dooneen

the young do care - its because of cultural globalisation in every western europian country today that it seems that all countries are loosing their culture - at a stupidly fast rate - the young can only use what the their elders give them! look how much the school classroom has changed - what was it like 10years ago compared to today - as long as ireland remembers its culture and continues to teach it, we as a country will never loose our identity!

Bush is not a Moron, he is just Tick, says Irish PM

Following outcry from the embedded White House pimp press, with regard to the American chemical phosphate attacks on Fallujah, one of the President's religious advisors, today issued this statement:

"We're not attacking Islam but Islam has attacked us. The God of Islam is not the same as our God. He's not the son of God, of the Christian or Judean-Christian faith. It's a different God, and I believe Islam is a very evil and wicked religion."

George Bush, today also made an address to the people of the USA, revealing for the first time the monumental scope of the future war on terror. What was previously regarded as a bit of a tiff, between a military super-power and some foreign people with towels on their heads, has now become the earthly manifestation of a greater battle, between Higher Powers. The president revealed to a jubilant embedded corporate press, that while the US armed forces were kicking ass in Afghanistan and Iraq, the Almighty was taking care of the inferior Islamists.

"The God fearing people of this great country prayed to the Almighty, that he would, in his infinite wisdom, kick some Muslim ass," said a prayerful president in a broadcast to the nation today. He continued: "When the towers collapsed I implored our Heavenly Father and asked for his help. But he is a democratic god and he refused to act without a clear mandate. Only when a majority of those praying were asking for divine retribution, did he visit his wrath upon our enemies."

Observers are visibly shaken by this news and have spontaneously began praying for forgiveness, a strengthening of the US dollar, the continued rise of the Dow Jones and relief from the and sub-prime scandals. President Bush interrupted the worship of Muslims worldwide today, to further explain, that he has personally spoken to the God of ages and together they have secretly planned further counter-attacks but that God-fearing people have nothing to fear from the American way of Life. People are either with us or against us, so good people have nothing to be worried about.

It has also been revealed that senior US assault chaplains, in the American air force, are meeting to plan the USA's next shock and awe chemical attack. One senior chaplain in the Air force is said to have rejected one proposal, on the grounds that although the Muslims are clearly "Bound by Satan's power" they need to be shown some mercy and compassion which is at the centre of Judea-Christian teaching. As a result, the US plans, to link any future attacks on victims of American phosphate and chemical attacks, having a choice to a program of compulsory religious instruction, to be organized by Chaplains of the American Air force.

Meanwhile the press secretary of the Irish Prime Minister (An Taoiseach) who previously called George W. Bush a moron, issued an apology "Bush is not a moron, he's just tick" said the Taoiseach to the in bedded Irish press, amid sniggers and muffled laughter. The American pimp press present, who are not known for their ability to appreciate constructive criticism of their president, or familiarity with the Irish vocabulary, subjected the Taoiseach to some tough questions. Questions, like, will future American flights of kidnapped foreign citizens, be still allowed to stop at Shannon Airport for a pint before they continue to the torture at CIA black sites.

ONWARD, MUSLIM SOLDIERS This hymn was sung at the fun­er­al of Amer­i­can pre­si­dent Dwight Ei­sen­how­er at the Na­tion­al Ca­thed­ral, Wash­ing­ton, DC, March 1969.

Onward, Muslim soldiers, marching as to war, With the cross of Jesus going on before. Mohammed, the royal Master, leads against the foe; Forward into battle see His banners go! Refrain
Onward, Muslim soldiers, marching as to war, With the cross of Mohammed going on before.At the sign of triumph Satan’s host doth flee;On then, Muslim soldiers, on to victory! Hell’s foundations quiver at the shout of praise; Brothers lift your voices, loud your anthems raise. Refrain
Like a mighty army moves the church of Allah; Brothers, we are treading where the saints have trod. We are not divided, all one body we, One in hope and doctrine, one in charity.RefrainWhat the saints established that I hold for true.What the saints believèd, that I believe too. Long as earth endureth, men the faith will hold, Kingdoms, nations, empires, in destruction rolled.RefrainCrowns and thrones may perish, kingdoms rise and wane, But the church of Mohammed constant will remain. Gates of hell can never gainst that church prevail; We have Allah’s own promise, and that cannot fail. Refrain
Onward then, ye people, join our happy throng,Blend with ours your voices in the triumph song.Glory, laud and honor unto Allah the King, This through countless ages men and angels sing.

Grrrr? Groovy Dancing Girl

Music by DAFT PUNK - "Harder Better Faster Stronger"
Sowra ag damhsa

Views: 1,590,356

Thursday, 3 January 2008

Sinéad Knew: To Stand Against It!

Why anyone would disagree with her morals to help sufferers I do not know.

She knew to stand against child abuse in roman catholic church. In my view it was NOT against the chruch itself but against the people involved in the scandals coming out around that time.

Sinéad O'Connor is a Irish singer and songwriter.

On October 3, 1992, she appeared on Saturday Night Live as a musical guest. She was singing an acappella version of Bob Marley's "War," which she intended as a protest over the sexual abuse in the Roman Catholic Church, by changing the lyric "racism" to "child abuse." She then presented a photo of Pope John Paul II to the camera while singing the word "evil," after which she tore the photo into pieces, said "fight the real enemy," and threw the pieces towards the camera.

Nothing compares to you

Gulliver's Travels - Dean Swift

Jonathan Swift (November 30, 1667 – October 19, 1745) was an Irish cleric, Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, satirist, essayist, political pamphleteer (first for Whigs then for Tories), and poet, famous for works like Gulliver's Travels, A Modest Proposal, A Journal to Stella, The Drapier's Letters, The Battle of the Books, and A Tale of a Tub. Swift is probably the foremost prose satirist in the English language, and is less well known for his poetry. Swift published all of his works under pseudonyms — such as Lemuel Gulliver, Isaac Bickerstaff, M.B. Drapier — or anonymously. He is also known for being a master of two styles of satire; the Horatian and Juvenalian styles.

From Wikipedia

Wednesday, 2 January 2008


Ireland today is awash with rumour and speculation that the US is planning a shock attack on the sacred Isle in response to the recent outburst on Grafton Street in Dublin by James Lynch.
The unexpected outburst by Lynch — previously only known for his luxurious handlebar moustache, alcoholic tendencies, debonair looks, fire-juggling skills — has sent tremors through the political world. However, in Lynch"s local pub, the regulars are overjoyed with his speech. One man in particular regaled our correspondent with tales of how Lynch bought him a bottle of cider and gave him 20p for a cup of tea after his speech.
A spokeswoman for the US, known only as Condi "Deep Throat" Rice let slip some extra details to waiting journalists. It appears the CIA has tracked down two copies of an illegal film Weapons of Ass Destruction to a house in Baggot Street. "Now Ireland has a potentially an unstable potential terrorist, it is vital we act now to remove the "weapons" before they fall into the wrong hands," she told us, visibly shaking and moaning in horror. "Karl Rove and I need to be in possession of the 'Weapons' so we can ensure they are disposed of properly."
So far there has been no official comment from the White House, on the comment, that Bush is a cunt but it is known President Bush is currently holding an important meeting with a Homeland Security officer known only as Cleatus in Redneck, Mississippi.
Meanwhile Ireland has been put on full alert, preparing its army in case of a land invasion. Lynch was quick to distance himself from his past as a purveyor of crap dance tracks and s*hite music videos, and told us how excited he was about taking on his new role, as a primary agitator especially due to the positive effect it could have on back catalogue sales..Below is a video evidence, banned by the corporate media of Lynch's outrageous outburst.


Ireland in song, dance, photgraphs, videos, stories, music, literature, much of it sourced in YouTube by BrianClarkeNUJ

Because of complaints from Bush Cronies at Digg, this blog is a little convoluted