This gallery contains 46 photos.
AND most personally meaningful
The following unforgettable posts are not linked. Your effort to scroll down from previous postings will be hugely rewarded. Currently to get to the end will be something like 12 yards for your poor mouse.
Last but certainly least
a webpage I titled
a site largely on local yokels or more yokels locally.
© Maurice O’Sullivan Aherne 2015. All rights reserved.
|I sense we are getting along well. Please be aware that MORE pleasure awaits the reader just by the agency of scrolling further. Latest opinions appear to be a mile down. In actuality just yards for your mouse. If you are reading segment by segment ‘follow the arrow at bottom’ .|
|If there are duplications you must remind yourself you can never get enough of a good thing.|
The following articles however are
copyright of Lists of Note
I have been asked as to the reason for the eponymous title. Best explained by a passage of a parable, “no man, when he hath lighted a lamp, covereth it with a vessel, or putteth it under a bed; but putteth it on a stand…” The Bible didn’t mention Google’s pre-eminence.
The MOSAherne is a contraction of Maurice O’Sullivan Aherne in loving respect to both sides of my family. The moniker usefully combines the name of a remote grandfather and J. Joyce lookalike, Moss. I refer to physiognomy without the global renown.
All three of us may have had a shared interest I see…..
Loyal Harriet was back in Blighty making the payments, as Jimbo sits with Sylvia (Beach )and Adrienne (Monnier) at Shakespeare & Co. in Paris in 1938. Poor Nora was left with the domestic responsibilities. From author Gisèle Freund. Source. Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University.
Even on this planet someone named we’ll say Hieronymus Bosch will have a namesake not so far away. I have decided to change bye-line and title for the sake of clarity. I was slow to notice that Latin is not the language of the day “Questia Omnia” as it had been. However it’s still about asking questions and having a BS radar tuned in! Better late than never! I do like sports or did . That’s why I don’t pay much attention to what has replaced it. I will write more on this soon. When asked about a ‘favourite’ book by another site I authentically said ‘autobiography, and that would be mine’. It’s on recurring ‘hold’ until bookstores clear shelves of celebrity gossip and pubescent biography. Since that might not happen until a nuclear winter, a greater incentive is needed
My personal journey patiently awaits paper, much greater focus, and time. The better amongst us shall be named and the lessers (you’re ahead of me here) shamed! Upon a night sometime past dark thirty if fickle Fate doesn’t finally terminate my subscription to this temporal sphere, I’ll settle before the blankest of pages and by force of will if nothing else consign to parchment, events that changed everything irrevocably, and for the worse.
It might require large doses of humour to make it bearable or readable but that shouldn’t be a problem.
Either way it won’t matter because for once quite ironically it’ll be for me.
Or as Stephen King wrote….. “The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them: words shrink things. “
So this Web Journal is a figurative toe in the ocean. Part memoir, travel writing, and essays. It might wander at stages into the realm of biog. A fetal kick as it were to something more substantial. An embryonic exercise. Each line of opinion can be viewed as a cell of sense and erudition. A zygote of…
Ok enough metaphor.
There are many great museums along the Mall of Washington DC. The Air and Space Museum is one to glide through slowly.
The Udvar Hazy Museum is a companion facility. It’s a short drive over the State line into Chantilly Virginia.
The SR-71 was polished and shining like a new large toy. It’s pristine look betrayed the operational wear it had to sustain during it’s service. Even before it was consigned to this museum, it was set a task- to fly from California to DC- in record time.
Incidentally, the room in the background (above) at the time I was there ca 2007 -housed the drop test STS Shuttle Enterprise *. This has been replaced at this museum by STS Discovery post-Operational Service. The engineless Enterprise has moved to New York on the Hudson aboard the Intrepid floating carrier museum beside 12th Avenue.
Another 71 is a stationary star in Merced California. It’s retirement home is a titanium preserving sun-baked plot at Castle AFB 5050 Santa Fe Drive, Atwater, California, 95301, in the San Joaquin Valley, one hour from Fresno, two hours from Sacramento, and three hours from San Francisco.
Castle AFB is itself decommissioned. It was the home base of B47’S and B 52’s since the 1950’s.
This bird was the most operational SR-71 and even from Santa Fe Drive, it had the subtle allure of a raven-haired woman in a well cut-dress.
I emphasise that it is the aesthetics of aircraft, and the skill of crew (here and elsewhere) that I commend.
The politics are another thing!
Incidentally residual pride in ‘Irishness’ is rekindled by knowing that some of the elite crew who were involved with this great airframe were connected to the ‘ol sod’. Pat Halloran was one of a few , and moreover had command of the Wing, at a time when classified assignments were at their height.
Here is the SR 71-roster. Check the paternal names here. As is the case elsewhere in the USA, the maternal lineage might provide as much connection with others.
Copyright © 1996 Leland R. Haynes.
Communication to Tower
There were a lot of things we couldn’t do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane—intense, maybe, even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.
It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.
I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn’t match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.
We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot who asked Center for a read-out of his ground speed. Center replied: “November Charlie 175, I’m showing you at ninety knots on the ground.” Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the “Houston Center voice.” I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country’s space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that and that they basically did. And it didn’t matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.
Just moments after the Cessna’s inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed in Beech. “I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed.” Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren.
Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. “Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check.” Before Center could reply, I’m thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a read-out? Then I got it, ol’ Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He’s the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: “Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground.” And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done—in mere seconds we’ll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn.
Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it—the click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: “Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?” There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request.
“Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground.” I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: “Ah, Center, much thanks, we’re showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money.”
For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A. came back with, “Roger that Aspen. Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one.” It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day’s work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast.
Written by Brian Schul former ‘sled’ SR-71 Blackbird pilot
No person has ever said more, about so much, with so few words
“To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d!”
Will the Shaker.
Style comes and goes but with a little substance might linger awhile.
Check out Chill Downtempo
for 21st century music sublimity.
Kaskade with ‘4 AM’
Air Cherry Blossom Girl and Femme de L’argent.
Zero 7 Most of their oeuvre
Boards of Canada ‘Left Side Drive’
Clubbed to Death (Kurayamino Variation) by Dougan
Did I mention?
by Jerome Isma-Ae on Croatia which has a 1960’s feel
Indulge yourselves once more with Teardrop from Masive Attack and the wonderful last base note reminiscent of Isaac Hayes. Try their Black Milk on Mezzanine
Smashy n Nicey might have said “here’s a climber riding up the charts
It’s Personal by The Radio Dept
No doubt these young musicians were inspired or by some aural osmosis sub-liminally influenced by these old guys below
In the late decades of the last century ‘Aja’ from the canon of Becker & Fagan set a standard. Steely Dan are one of few acts or performers I paid to listen to in this age when every tenth person is promoted as a must-see tour.
The ear often outweighs the eye for impact and impression. Here’s the guys in sound and vision.
from BBC’s Classic Album AJA
Here’s the eponymous track (skip the commercial)
Humour is not confined to lyrics with the two amigos. Fagen saying …”with Jerry Lewis?” Becker retorts ” a fertile period for you”
Preferential tracks from their oeuvre would be
The Boston Rag.
Do it again
Why not lend an ear to Donald Fagen’s solo album ‘The Nightfly’
“This image is of a cover of an audio recording, and the copyright for it is most likely owned by either the publisher of the work or the artist(s) which produced the recording or cover artwork in question.” That’s Wikipedia’s way of saying ” we’re clean-you’re on your own if you use it-and Donald calls. Hence I say this photo is copyright of Mr Donald Fagan and to whoever he wishes it to be.
“I wait all nite for calls like these”
Other recommendations of mine towards 20th century musicianship
If you can ignore the public school preambles which interrupts their musical skill…..
From the largely skipped 80’s I like
Talking Heads’ Stop Making Sense
Previously I had included links to above but YouTube got all possessive and denied access. So as a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse, I urge you to take a look at the above artistes all by yourself with your own mouse.
Specific tracks from the last century I gravitate towards ARE
Eagles Tracks New York Minute (live version) and I Can’t Tell You Why!
quintessential disco from Chic such as I Want Your Love
Isaac Hayes Theme from Shaft
Curtis Mayfield Move on up Superfly Pusherman
America Tracks Horse With No Name Sandman Ventura Highway
Incidentally we were on Ventura Freeway (101 highway) as we moved passed Vandenberg AFB via Lompoc California en route east into Arizona.
Until I find a better shot this one below is near enough to the locale!
(pic) Time for a crumpled stogie as I do some California dreamin’
Other sounds of the 20th century that float my boat are…..
For What it’s Worth Buffalo Springfield
Black Water The Doobie Brothers
Which reminds me of the black, brown, and blue waters between the Atlantic and Pacific I dipped a toe in. Including those two oceans!
Here’s the very cold Colorado.
A brief respite from ‘Americana’ as we remember the sounds of Blighty.
Elvis Costello -Oliver’s Army;
Joe Jackson-Steppin’ Out;
Police King of Pain;
Al Stewert– Year Of The Cat
Going TransLan once more …….
Boz Scagg What Can I Say
It would be remiss of me to leave ‘music’ without a nod to one of the few greats (still breathing) that is Mr. Zimmerman, Bob Dylan. Again another individual I would pay to see, but I took my time about it.
Bob Dylan deserves his status just for ‘touring’ alone . He could easily have rested on his laurels for 40 years. Many times he did the circuit in Ireland but I must have had other priorities.
It took until 2000 July 14th in Minnesota (appropriately enough) for yours truly to catch up. I was on Lyndale Ave and Lake St in south Minneapolis when by happenstance I read that BD was performing.
I have a few personal photos of the Twin Cities Minn /St Paul somewhere which I will try to find.
I leave you for now with Wiki’s look at this interesting part of the Mid-West.
Following way behind Dylan but still in a division above the rest is Neil Young. His oeuvre is often more ascerbic which contrasts somewhat with the ‘hippy’ optimism of The Byrds’. Turn, Turn, Turn ‘ is kinda nice all the same. Buffalo Springfield’s ‘For what it’s Worth’-is very evocative of the 1960’s.
Crosby, Stills, Nash with their changing configurations of CSN and CSN&Y are always melodically noteworthy. ‘Just a Song before I go’ ‘Long Time Gone’ ‘Our House’ ‘Helplessly Hoping’
Harmonics and melody are not from a bygone era. I came across the following in the last few years.
French duo Air with Femme de L’argent
and FC Kahuna Hayling
All to be found at Electronic>Chill Downtempo. Find them on
Dip into classical or cool jazz while you’re there.
Gotta go for now, but as I said to an Ukrainian friend Elizaveta. “I ain’t ‘rushing’ and neither are you Liz!”
This technology monitored the lighting of a virtual bomb under the willing.
images/text Copyright © MOSAherne 2013 · All Rights Reserved
post launch memories
empty space here
though less so above
Who said light it up?
Hot in here today isn’t it? Who turned off the air-con?
From the 5 Saturn J1’s of the Apollo era
to 3 RS-25 Shuttle Main Engines (SSME).
Here’s three we made earlier.
plus two solid rockets-
for that little extra PUSH!
Keep in the oven until the night!
Bring up the temperature!
What do you mean it only goes to 10?
This IS an 11 situation here!
Now let it go!
Just a few shots. I figured it was a time for the naked eye rather than a viewfinder.
Actually I’d forgotten again my better camera
Update 6 years on. Having photographed the International Space Station flying over a portion of Ireland this month June 2013; this last pic above in retrospect mimics the ISS. One reason is the transonic-super-hypersonic speed down range gives an impression of some sort of solar panel attachment. The actual reason of course is lack of a telephoto lens and some camera shake.
I can assure you the STS above doesn’t have a solar panel configuration.
Here’s the ISS passing from west to east on 6th/7th /8th June2013. It did so for almost a fortnight. It’s 255 miles up-moving at a leisurely 17,239.2 mph. I feel the .2 is important here;-). Yes-it looks like a speck. What d ya expect? Time Life or Magnum photography? Somehow I feel my dependable tiny Nikon Coolpix camera without telephoto attachments gives the right feel of distance and vacuity of space; the aloneness of the void….the existential chasm
….OK ye get my drift!
These last 2 pics are a communication tower outside our dwelling. Day or night they give the impression of rocket launch pads (albeit one fourth in size)
3rd picture from top or the 11th up from here was close enough to have one concerned about liquid Nitrogen and a wayward stogie. Atlantis was ‘pumped up’ for it’s mission to the ISS-International Space Station.
28 hours later and viewing further away, it made an expensive tax-dollar hole in the night sky. Swirling masses of brown toxic fuel lingered in the darkness for some time. As if in tribute to earlier times, the moon was out too.
The other STS shots elsewhere arose from a daylight flight by STS Discovery a year earlier as viewed from Cocoa Beach pier. I had walked the beach with two women who were in the industry. They casually spoke about Apollo; Gemini; and Mercury launches. I was a little envious.
There was nothing like that in Ireland 1960-73. Living under the occasional flight path of a Vickers Viscount or an exotic Constellation, several miles from Dublin airport, wasn’t nearly by an ocean, the same.
Someone is making ‘dungeons’ of cash by writing or typing and probably with two fingers a nonsense titled ‘Fifty Shades of Grey.
Much ink too has been spilt about someone called EL James and her competitor someone called Stephanie Meyer on an issue of plagiarism with this ‘work’. Both are satisfied about where their creative genius stemmed from.
50 Shades of Gray! Fifty shades of risible early 21st century Anglo-American pulp commercialism more like!
Or is it grays? As 5 grays of gamma radiation is sufficient to cause sterility before the onset of death; this book however might damage only the redundant grey matter of its readership.
<pause for a thought bubble and some finger tapping>
Has no one read ‘The Story of O’ by the way which has been on shelves for over half a century?
Has no one watched the humourous portrayal of this theme in Maîtresse (1976)
It’s as capricious as it is entertaining with Bulle and Gerard.
Ogier has something. I mean besides ‘the gear’ in this case. Il est l’espièglerie d’une fille et les exigences d’une femme, à mon avis.
” Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety ”
Of course she is not unlike many women on mainland Europe. Had the French electorate overlooked des fautes et des erreurs we would have had Ségolène Royal for 5 years to gaze upon.
pic credit: politicaymoda.com
instead of the Franco-Hungarian chap. Although Carla played substitute-role well.
On the face of it, at least, Sego exudes refinement. I’ll let you spot the time when Segoline heard of Francois H and his new friend.
Superb zygomatic and corrugator action on display don’t you think? Even for a French woman this is an impressive range of expressions! Anatomically there is no gender difference in the number of facial muscles but women in my opinion express emotion with greater variation, and often intensity!
Here’s the male spectrum
pic credit: BBC.
Not to obsess about it, but did you know that Marie-Ségolène was an au pair in Ireland ca.1971. You might have passed her in Duke St after she escaped from some family in Sandymount or Howth.
Here she is in full bloom if not innocence ca. 1974-ish.
So Paris on Bastille Day 2007 when I was there after the election was a little less glamorous with Sarky at the Élysée P.
No apologies for what some might mistakenly view as ‘ more objectification of women’ and so forth. It’s tongue-in-cheek ;-).
Incidentally for decades the advertising-marketing industry have written for and about women with no regard for subtleties.
Here however is good copy.
Where were we?
Ah yes! Fifty Shades of Grey! Really?
More like Fifty Shades of recycling, fifty years later-as the easily persuaded are stampeding to magazine shops. Has anyone heard of libraries by the way? Speaking of which my desk is full of library cards from California’s El Segundo branch south of Marina Del Ray to Florida’s Cape Canaveral at Polk Avenue, Brevard County.
Somewhere Eddie Bernays is smiling at the inability of folk to refuse buying ‘stuff’.
photo wiki: Bernays
If you put your ‘shell-like’ close to the photo above, Ed is whispering ” Shlemiel! Ye vill buy till you die! Even a schmuck vill learn eventually. By de vey my uncle Sigmund was never as schmart as me”
Anne Duclois (Pauline Réage: The Story of O) elsewhere with the choir invisible, is shrugging her shoulders bemused at the procured nature of 21st century writing
“Alors!. Je ne sais pas ce qui se passé”
text: Copyright © MOSAherne 2013 · All Rights Reserved ·
These two never refused a meal I’m guessing. The one starboard may not even be an XX gal. Not sure! What’s the male version of being bitchy? Doggy!
It’s Halloween October 31st 2006. Though it’s hard to notice the difference that makes
I’m on West Hollywood
Isn’t singleton behaviour a good case for marriage? No?
Ah Marriage? I imagine Groucho rolling his eyes head on hands
Time for gags.
or Horse sense.
I never knew what real happiness was until I got married. Then it was too late!.
Before marriage man yearns for the woman they love. After marriage-the ‘Y’ is silent.
Man isn’t complete until married. Then they’re really finished.
Marriage is a College where one loses a Bachelor’s Degree and the other gets a Masters
Marriage requires someone to undertake 5 rings “Finger ring, Engagement ring, Wedding ring, Suffering, Enduring.
Marriage is the sole cause of divorce.
Wedding Anonymous for those times when you feel like getting married. We send someone over to argue and burn the toast.
Love is an obsessive delusion finished by marriage.
Marriage is bliss. Ignorance is bliss. It follows …….?
Marriage Guidance window sign says: “OUT TO LUNCH – THINK IT OVER.”
Married people live longer than singletons; but married people are also a lot more willing to die…
We all heard the variation on that last one….Married folk live longer than singles. Really? No. It only feels that way.
Contracted bonded pair or casual polyamory ie bookshop or library equation maybe?
To counterbalance cynicism …..
Make sure of your intention. Use sparingly!
Some folk who have dodged the bullet ……
The restructured male
pic: feminspire.com approve Mr Bailey
From another interesting town, Reno, Nevada
LA to San Francisco below
Snooze or read?
or look at the great view of the Pacific coastline.
Some slight diversion to interesting photographs. Click on each pic to advance. My old comments are somewhere around.
which reminds me to include more shots.
I mean photos Officer!
If you turn your head 90 degrees. Go on humour me………
The dimming light has more to do with post-pic-fixing than actual elapsed time. Although I did spend an amount of time in situ. The tent below forefront was a moveable feast (almost literally)
if you turn your head another 90 degrees or thereabouts, maybe 75.
and a tad more
swing those neck muscles again please since the monument ain’t moving. Who said why not?
To give your further orientation. The Pentagon(of which you heard) in this photographic exposition is over the Potomac river in Virginia to the left (background) and within that region is the Arlington cemetery. Sadly there has been a relationship between the two for centuries ie Pentagon and Cemetery.
The JFK Center is background right in the picture above. The Watergate Hotel and Complex of R.M.N infamy not far away. This is a town of connections in many senses!
I was about to give you the Tour Guide of everything; but here’s the basics courtesy of my Mountain View Cal. friends
Before we leave DC, or perhaps leave it once more,
Oct 2007 I felt a need to get closer. It took another year to get inside that House yonder in the Fall of 2008. Incidentally on the wall before the East room ie in the Cross Hall was a large framed painting of one Hillary C. I reckoned that Bill needed to assuage her wrought over some infidelity or other. So here was this large unflattering (oil painting ironically) dwarfing to the right a small poignant painting of JFK. More on the White House elsewhere but I re-iterate that the East Room is relatively small. It is not what the cameras (over 50 years in my case) have presented to the senses. Tiny considering it has held banquets for kings and concerts from rock stars. not to mention more regular press conferences.
More as I said elsewhere.
Incidentally getting into the WH for a foreigner is very possible. All you need is a hard-earned level of perseverance; and a friendly Senator’s clearance.
© MOSAherne 2013. All Rights Reserved
Avoid network media!
Specifically the local sort! That Medi O’ Crity of deluded egos and lost souls here on a damp little island off western Europe.
Their toxic commercial blend of bland and brand. Witless and witless about being so witless; this cynically insincere lot, ‘live’ for ratings. Their existence revolves around selling ‘stuff’ to their target audience, and by doing so-remunerated for their ‘industry’ to an extent that convinces the other tools of duplicity, namely politicians, to consider a second career.
How many hard working nurses; emergency responders; even senior doctors could be paid with the emolument of just one of these soulless ‘voices’? I’m guessing 9; 10; and 3 respectively.
Only an innocent visitor or immigrant would find Oirish media momentarily interesting, informative, or diverting. Entertaining news or news that will entertain; Newssquak and Orse TE clowns don’t know the difference.
If you really need an approximation to informative dialogue, Google search ‘reputable’. There’s really no excuse not to do so in this day and age.
If you must go network, try Al-Jazeera, Reuters, US-PBS Newshour, or maybe around the corner at Portland Square London.
If you need some harmonic distraction, get down in Chill Down-tempo, Classic Jazz, Exotica Lounge, Easy Summer Lounge, and if that’s not enough, maybe venture into the murkier depths of funk or fusion.
or try a break in the southwest. Not this time with wonderful Fungi in Kerry but
Walrus 105.7. San Diego
Keep it classy now!
Just a few more……
WHTZ-FM Z100 – New York
WKTU-FM 103.5 – New York
KIIS-FM 102.7 – Los Angeles
KBIG-FM 104.3 MYFM – Los Angeles
KOST-FM 103.5 – Los Angeles
WCBS-FM 101.1 – New York
KRTH-FM K-EARTH 101 – Los Angeles
WBMP-FM 92.3 AMP Radio – New York
So no need for D.2 OR D.4.
This gallery contains 50 photos.
Germany is fascinating. We’re outside the Adler Café in Berlin. Had I been wearing a trench coat and a monocle I wouldn’t have been out of place. The building was tangibly and authentically Berlin as much as the neighbouring tourist shops … Continue reading
Tethered display at the KSC is an apt visual metaphor for current stalled US manned flight operations. Surely a temporary hiatus.
A mile or more further along Cape Canaveral………
in their natural setting as it were
7 years on, I must upload more photos from the Cape, and those at the Smithsonian up in Washington DC.
Another Irish connection at NASA.
From the ground UP!
I did fly a Cessna but mercifully for all, only momentarily, on a journey from Merritt Airport over the causeways and both rivers to Cocoa Beach and then north as close a allowed to the iconic 1957-2012 Cape launch site.
I thought of the many vehicles over 50 years that rose along this corridor transonically, supersonically and hypersonically.
The reference to a bank in Tampa should be overlooked. It is not the same plane. Never went near Tampa, officer!. Honestly!
My digitalized name on a microchip
is aboard this infra.
Admittedly there are > 750,000 but < 1 million other names on this human nail size silicon chip. All are travelling with the most expensive ‘car’ ever built, in a capsule, on top of a rocket, at hypersonic speed, for 8 months!
There is the adage ‘if it ain’t broke-don’t fix it’. The people at JPL though are always looking for options and they have chosen a more complicated multi-stage landing procedure (higher chance of failure) over the previous successful landing techniques.
Good luck. ETA August 2012. UPDATE. It landed perfectly ( the tiny section on top of the rocket ) All is well. The Mars Rover is working like a beaver -(if it were a robot)
The mission as the world knows-was a complete success. Curiosity is roving away with daily scientific tasks. Mars today helps you work rest and …..stay!
Copyright MOSAherne 2013. All Rights Reserved.
The hardware at the Cape, too!
The rocket booster stages and block houses at the Cape,
Command capsules are however placed at notable air force and navy base museums around the US, but many of the prominent ones are a 2 hour flight north or 10 hours door to door to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum in DC, which is always interesting to visit.
Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo 11 command module are the first exhibits you’ll encounter, as you step indoors, off the Mall.
Here’s a couple of thumbnails. Protective Perspex shell around Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo capsules cause severe camera reflections.
I just reflected on 50 years and the passage of time.
Another Time, Another Place
Back at the Cape, the hardware and software had moved on too.
Copyright MOSAherne 2013. All Rights Reserved.
the Irish will ever experience …….
is one which follows the Laws of Physics and least of all
Pic. from ISS. credit: NASA/ESA.
text. Copyright MOSAherne 2013. All Rights Reserved.
|“Human society has become exponentially stupefied! WOOF”The author here has asserted that I bark. I hardly ever do! Quite the opposite is the case. I’m adaptable to the existing conditions of life. I keep everything in proportion. If only he were so phlegmatic, poor fellow!
Canine bitches may check me out by pawing “Irish Wolfhound” into one of those human search engines.
Here are a few people who obviously had taste. Or should I say Styler? Woof-woof Trudie!
However here’s one Eye D I O Tango who’s letting the K9 side down by imitating humans!
You may have noticed that there are a lot of mug-shots of yours truly on all platforms. This could leave me open to accusations of rampant egoism. Now give me some credit. The first ‘selfies’ required amazing dexterity. There is only so much you can do with an arm without losing perspective and background.
I have only included myself to spare the innocent. Some are too shy, and others have gone into Protection Programs 😉
Others may still sue.
Smashing person Ms Cameron.
while Roberta was an experience
Further inland at the High Desert
Ms Payne was…..that.!
But going back to Northern California
or a world away in character (310 miles geographically as I counted and was prepared to run if the train hadn’t) was a shining example (below)of integrity; talent with humility, and positivity…..
I am aware that the following might sound harsh even a touch misanthropic. Please view it as a public service or maybe a public health announcement
I might consign media comments to a new blog ( working title-Landfill ) just as soon as I find further time and patience and the will to live.
There are mercifully some exceptions to the mediocre. Orla Guerin is one of possibly 5 Irish born who are actually good at their job without any apparent need to be greater than their story.
A future name to look out is Francesca Comyn. She might save herself by moving to Al Jazeera or Auntie Beeb .
Where to begin?
Those who ought to be publicly flogged are the self- aggrandising, self-enriching venal tarts commonly referred to as the media in Ireland and their exponential golden circle of ‘rent a cliché gobs’
In medieval times they would have been eviscerated, boiled for witchcraft and fed to four-legged animals.
Newsreaders announce the latest road tragedy like some Disney event with a vocal range from happy clappy to brainlessly chirpy
They phonate “Dats all from us! You’re now up to daihet!. Send us your comments on tw**ter.”, or join us now -on Face***k!
Print columnists when not prostituting themselves on telly have youthful looking byline pictures of themselves preceding their smug opinions.
Surely no one reads or listens or buys it! The luvvies must rely on
Not s0 long ago that one could forget there was something called
The Jacobs Award.
ca. 1963-1993 Irish broadcasters took the biscuit (not in the literal sense unless they actually ate the fig rolls but close enough!) when they turned up in glitter, gowns and gormless grins to receive their coveted prize. Women also were there!
It wasn’t a Nobel or Pulitzer. And it wasn’t work to find a cure for diabetes or cancer.
What’s the difference between this
firm of accountants Mssrs. Kenny Byrne and Tubridy.
Curley Moe and Larry.
Very little on the surface we all agree.
Note the car door lettering. Have you ever seen the six in a room together at the same time? I rest my case!
However, one trio (b&w bottom) were in show-business, and the other trio (atop in color but colourless) are in their own business.
One trio are dead. The other while ostensibly alive, die very often in public!
One trio passed over painfully and horribly (cerebral and cardiac complications) The other trio haven’t sadly, but have been causing horrible pain for decades.
Where is Karma, I ask you?
I voluntarily listen during ablutions in the morning to Ireland’s ‘serious’ stations. The clichés and media speak is nauseating.
Blame game is this news or sport or both?
Step up to the plate OK, we’re in the diamond. Baseball and not culinary arts?
From Left Field yes-it’s baseball all right!
When did baseball become so popular on this side of the Atlantic. Babe Ruth is smiling somewhere
Level playing field we could be playing a few sports now.
On message Now it’s tactics!!!!!
Final analysis. Usually it is when analysed, until the next analysis.
The rest is history as senseless as ‘make poverty history’ Both without a hint of English grammar too
Sea change is that a Tsunami approacing?
We have a situation Sure do! Was in a playing field some time ago
A ha moment what has a Norwegian pop band to do with news
Perfect storm we talked already about the situation with the sea change! Come On!
Tipping point the waves…the waves….the waves….the waves?
Be afraid, be very afraid A Judge told me that mitigating circumstances for GBH would be taken into account if someone were to say this to me
Thinking outside the box I wish someone would try; either in or out, just once!
This fatuous forty I’ll leave you to decipher….
Between the lines
Is what it is
Point in time
Up to speed
Having said that
Wake up call
Bring it on
Time is running out
Make no mistake
Window of opportunity
Raise the bar
Any way, shape or form
Continue the conversation
In a perfect world
Par for the course
Reinvent the wheel
At this moment in time
In all honesty
Take full responsibility
Those were the days
Resolve the issue
Hard earned money
Begs the question
One thing is certain
On the same page
Pushing the envelope ? Really?
This is a Aviator Test Pilot term which loses meaning in any other context! Unless you work in a stationary shop.
Not rocket science and Not brain surgery
Again, how would they know?
Then the luvvies bleat
“send us your feedback /twitter us /or on Facebook /or text us”
Really? I don’t think so.
“There’s more” says PK . An old comedian somewhere is appalledcthat his catch phrase is used by such a portentious clown.
In case I didn’t make it clear
WITHOUT THE SORRY BIT!
RTE. ‘The Irish in America! Sounds familiar! This time we were promised a new slant ‘ Da Oirish influence on fillums in Ameri Kay’.
Why didn’t they slap the picture above to the screen and save the licence payer several hundred grand?
“From Hell’s Kitchen to Hollywood” The title must have been the deal maker. Lugs Kelly and crew went on another jolly.
On the plus side,
Orla Guerin as I said elsewhere is a shining example of a journalist. There are a few who give the facts in a straight forward way.
One who doesn’t and hasn’t been in bloom for decades is Olivia O’Leary!. She does a ‘Vocem Sapientis’ every so often when it seems she comes out of her widowed retirement to lecture all who might listen. She’s not Alistair Cooke. More Roger Cook!
If she must do the Urbi et Orbi schtick could she desist from using the ‘we’ when referring to the nation and people
More often than not during a link between gossip and more gossip in a News Department someone tries to be ‘funny’. I mean intentionally so. 7am-9am some fool injects a pun or talks drivel. Torrents of laughter.
Has Larry David entered the room?
” Pretty Pretty
Little was ever original in Irish broadcasting. I’m guessing a desk if not a door marked Programme Development exists to give an impression of originality
5 decades of imports from the UK and the US-must have been a huge saving. Why is there a need for a license fee? That must be to pay the ‘talent’ a kings ransom
Why? In case a real World standard broadcast corporation signs them up!
Audiences meanwhile are ‘prone’ to shopping.
Random Tedious Effluenza and Newsquak!
If RTE are the flagship of Irish broadcasting or a Costa Con Dire if you will, then start looking for lifeboats!
“RTE supporting the arts” a munchkin voice intones. True, as many of the ‘talent’ managed to acquire a basic arts degree.
Speaking of accents when did Irish people start saying ‘Coirk’ for Cork?
Where did that awful inflection at the end of sentences come from? Was it from a diet of Australian TV during the 1980’s.
Other vocal artistes fail to impress with US accents ‘ must see moovee’.
I tune in for a few minutes to hear if a cultural uprising has broken out against the message and messenger.
No chance! It’s La La Ireland. People are easily satisfied!
Pat K one of the best chemical engineers in light entertainment 1980-20oo sounds more and more like an impression of himself of late.
The inflections and emphases often go into hyper-drive, . Any more PK-isms such as “the optics”, and ‘the law of unintended consequences’ and Apres Match satire team could be out of business.
I heard a health executive person (an executive of the Executive, or the top executive if you follow) say “300,000 people on a waiting list is bad. The good news is…we are now making a decision on what to do”.
“Vot a country”!
Oirish radio as ever followed all other broadcasters worldwide by having podcasts. The problem now is, it makes the miss-able……less miss-able!
Rte (cailin whispers another voice -over) “so bad we play it twice!”
You heard it a million times; you heard it once!
Daffy Duck requested not to have his picture associated with this subject. He was overruled.
Media schools probably urge herds of ‘wannabees’ to ‘be themselves’. Being oneself is a problem in Oirish broadcasting. So much worse with a microphone.
“The tree girls went the udder way (sic) “
This diction brings to mind several images, and has at least two meanings. It could be women tree arborists milking a cow. Or it could be something too explicit for WordPress.
Then we have ……
“Dats all ? Who is Dat, and why is he/she, all of it?
“Der you have it” – Who is Der, and what have you given him or hercand why?
Or full-blown Lyric FM presenters*** -not only with the affliction mentioned but with with a risable pretence that they are polyglots just by the machination of over-phrasing foreign words.
” Dat was Beethoven der!” They throw in ‘of course’ as in ” dat was Heydn der, of course ” when they get bored with their normal levels of condescension.
Now for sometime their play list was the height of complaisance as it accommodated the perceived musical knowledge of their audience. From listening to a few of their podcasts (useful tool for condensing pain in byte sizes) -the Lyric troupe now ask for listeners to submit their choices. How nice!
G.Hamilton* sports commentator and cultural icon being the exception. Although his liking of Elgar’s ‘pomp & circumstance’ relegates him badly in my view to lower championship level.
It takes all Oirish stations quite a bit of time to decide where the syllabic emphasis should be intoned for foreign names. Just in the last decade alone, David Ginola, Thierry Henri, et Sarkozy had their respective names ‘chewed’.
Somewhere the clamour of an overworked producer-director is heard “Never mind the Hungarian roots of Sarky- Pat!-just feckin say sumptin ’til ye get used to it”.
You’re as bad a Eileen and Una in the newsroom for asking”!
Update! The French voted in another guy. “just drop the ‘H’–and get on with it! It’s all on da auto-cue!
The director will later go home, kick his pussy-cat and cry “If only the license payers knew the salary of these newsreaders”.
Speaking of which……
Any remote regard RTE might have for their audience rings hollow in the the license fee campaign. The target audience are taught in a step by step way how to pay up. It takes condescension to a new level. Unlike their programmes.
So it’s a marriage of convenience; but guess who holds the prenuptial contract!
Want more codology?
A Newstalk commentator at a match between Wales and Ireland uttered—“crowd is well short of the expected numbers”. His thick accent conjoined the syllables. He was not aware of the pun! Welshort!
There are some microphonies who think apeing the ‘foksy spake’ of Michael O ‘Hehir is the method to follow. G.Canning and M. Morrissey are just two.
However with the new rugby craze of the last few years someone called Corcoran has hitched a ride on the truck of hyper-crazed commentary. This gob manages to outdo the O’Hehiritis and everyone before him.
Down homesy verbal diarrhea and confused logic abound. ” O’Connell literally sprang out from the depths of the earth” Corcoran the cretin shouted
Could anything be worse? I’ll rephrase that! Could anything be as bad in one small country. Frankly yes!
TV 3, or TV Tree as they would have it.
Not as beautiful as a Sequoia , but thicker than the thickest one. A pen of folk who prefer to sit on sofas and lunch all day complaining in many different ways. Where did feminism go wrong? Why are men not able to multi-task? It really is so…..
TV 3’s wireless step-sibling Newsqualk FM meanwhile supports failed politicians; failed economists; failed U2 wishabe pop singers; and failed sports people
Or maybe they are people in transition. They may not have a Montrose contract but the ‘Sky’ is always the limit!!!
How much will ya pay me ? Shure! Who needs a soul?
A shower of unluvables whose only ability is to reverse the adage – ‘ye heard it a million times; ye heard it once’ .
Newsquak have some line they strap “It’s not just news you know!”
It’s diabolical nonsense, with a twist!
The latest perversity is to have someone called O’Donovan (or donkey to his friends) read a prepared segment in ‘Gaelic’ on a random subject so badly that if that other smooth Gaelic speaker Gerry Adams whacked him with an Armalite; he would be pardoned. 2nd degree manslaughter for cynical cultural destruction, a mitigating factor
I wonder if this satisfies the commercial radio license agreement, BCI-Broadcast Commission of Ireland?
I asked. They hadn’t a clue. Nothing was or has been done
Dat’s all folks!
The Me- D- Ya is the message!
I refer exclusively to the presenters-glitterati with the microphone phoniness.
The off-stage staff are not a target. Sound and vision staff while on decent money, usually deserve it, not least in the face of great provocation. It’s amazing how discreet they are.
(A declaration of fact and certainly not jealousy as I know a little about the subconscious. I had a flirtation and then a very brief unsatisfying affair with television and radio broadcasting at one time, having previously sabotaged a possible career in the Hades of ‘adverteasings’.
It was destined to end in divorce. There hangs a tale for a less interesting paragraph from a chapter of a book yet to be written. My autobiography will be in a bookshop when the shelves are cleared of ‘celebrity’. As of now the latter is unlikely so the former is on hold! Working title “Fate Falls Furiously”)
May I insert my latest profundity here ” For every clown at the top (a surfeit of them in Oirland) there are at least a score who would be equally at home in a circus”
Pronunciation of foreign nouns
FYUU-dur Dahs-tuh-YEF-skee was a Russian writer -not a name drop of the chatterati “dosstoyes ski”.
There was a lot of snow but little recreation time for Fyodor to ski.
POO-teen is the current pronunciation of the Russian Federation boss whether people like it or not! PuTIN is not!
duh-GAH Degas is one of many artists whose works are displayed at the LOOV-ruh
Duh-by oo Debussy tinkled on the ebony and ivory.
SAR-truh et Duh-bo-vahrrr were philosophical intimates.
Loord where a miracle might happen to bring correct pronunciation to the angliscised world! Not Lourdes!
one for the mindless ‘moooveee’ reviewers
Scorsese is NOT Scorsaysee
‘It’s Scor sessi’ Marty said!
Let’s decompress at Jango website once more
In the Waiting Line, Red Dust, Comfort Zone, Red Eye, Hayling, Peaceful Day, Konkret, Blue Grassland, Sparks,
Treat yourself again to Adam K and Soha Mix of Kaskade
More from the last century…..
New York Minute Eagles
California Dreaming Mamas&Papas
Just a Song Before I go CSN
A few years ago a high-end campaign for a high-end car had incidental music, ‘The Good Life’. The lyrics were written originally in an ironic sense and by implication it would not be a positive endorsement for that motor
Nowadays every item can be sold without nuance or subtlety. Why waste money and time selling with creative ideas when society has been primed to buy most things most of the time
Don’t get me started on the Irish advertising. The most offending one circa 2011-2013 was so bad it actually suited the show!
‘Liveline with Lyons Tea. Richer tea for richer talk’
On what level does that make sense, I ask you?
Infantile or Remedial?
If an alien had parked their hypersonic craft in Ireland over the last few years they might be forgiven for thinking that someone called Kathryn Of the Thomases was Queen Or that another someone called Craig of the Doyles was King.
Craig the Sincere out of a caste of professional ‘Dubliners’. The Fanning of the Fakists, D’ Murray the Piteous, and Tomas Dunne Scotus, previous servant of the Bono household. All from a lineage of insincere Hibernians stretching to the McGurk dynasty!
No sensible extra-terrestrial would waste their time with such earth bound self-replicating reptilian life forms.
I see one of the Seoige’s or is it Showages (the one who is not as pretty as the other 0ne that knows she’s prettier) had another excuse to make herself seem important or human
Seemingly she had the Big C. Not a contract for Channel 4 but cancer. Sadly it was the very benign type. Harsh?
There never was a threat to her life as she would have Blackrock Clinic on speed dial! A programme on her suffering was aired. A series to come. Look out for the box-set.
An Irish media comment on our Health Service Executive
” they are incompotent, (sic) when will situation improve?
Incompetence is lack of competence. Administrative incompetence is dysfunctional administrative behaviors that hinder attainment of organization goals.The other ‘potency’ needs a medical check-up.
Before another award season in Ireland a luvvy is overheard to mutter
“Times are so hard. It’s difficult finding the right agent to get the right exposure. I’ve had my fill of panel and reality. OK! Sure it pays for Saoirse and Dylan’s tutoring at Sion and Gonza, but it’s not the exposure level for ‘ME‘”
“It’s just appalling! The sheep-I mean our fans are too stupefied. It’s so hard to keep the pretence going that we care about them”.Why do the IFTA’s have to clash with Cloe’s wedding in Budapest this weekend?. Life is so unfair! ” Does my bum look too big in this” . If only it were the BAFTAs not the IFTAS. Where’s the camera darling?
There is always Radio4 and all the wonders of the BBC at Portland Square, where talent and pay is tolerably commensurate with each other.
29.1.2015. My photos at BBC Portland Square are currently unavailable as pictureperfect below I will digitalize prints and insert them.
No harm was done to winged creatures, fish, or four legged animals in making these comments, and that’s good!
text copyright MOSAherne 2013. All Rights Reserved.
To conclude, as the commentariat in Ireland, UK, and the US continually struggle with les mots élégant in some venal effort to sound cultive ; perhaps they ought to stick with the Moet, and leave the ‘mots’ alone.
Copyright MOSAherne 2013. All rights reserved.
Copyright © MOSAherne 2013 · All Rights Reserved ·
From one misty eyed nostalgic impression
to the reality, as it may be today
from Noam C.
The BBC’s Emily Maitlis awhile back was sent to scout down the socially awkward social media guru Mark Zuckerberg. It made for uncomfortable viewing. The new inquisitorial voice of Auntie Beeb in high boots and tight jodhpur trousers (bad choice superficially) interviewed with hyper enthusiasm and breathlessness the young billionaire. What was the news or attraction for the cougarish Maitlis to fly from London to Palo Alto Calif.
The greater mass of the globes population has one or rather a page in this book. Moreover to compound the stupidity, a Twitter account to boot. Surely misplaced consonants in the former and a vowel in the latter, are clues to the mentality of those who have either.
Way to go, Mark, and Jack (Dorsey). Can’t shoot a grifter for stumbling on suckers! Half a planet of suckers is scary though!
Speaking of numbers. The over-burdened planet has been boarded by a 7 billionth human during 2011. That’s roughly twice the number that was of concern to me (sustainability wise) in the 1970’s
Half of them being Tw*tters! ***It was my opinion ca. March 2006. The pejorative epithet is only used because Twitter is not called Cacker. It would follow that subscribers in this instance would be C*ckers.
<***The Conservative PM’s use of Tw*atters in c.2009 was 3 years in the making. Typical politician. >
As for the BBC Emily; she is usually more professional than she was in this taped package. What could have caused this? Billion dollar madness or Closet Cougar Syndrome?
Don’t leave us yet Kirsty!
I say this despite viewing the BBC, including Newsnight, Radio 4 et al. ‘trending’ for the last few years to the depths of the Twitter and Facebook influence.
© Maurice O’Sullivan Aherne 2013. All Rights Reserved.
Listening to a Phillip Marlow episode on BBC Radio 4 inspires me to look at Chandler’s work. After all he had an early connection to the locale I find myself ‘stuck in’ in today. Small mercies.
Yes! back in the day,
they did say …….
Vivian: Speaking of horses, I like to play them myself. But I like to see them workout a little first, see if they’re front runners or come from behind, find out what their hole card is, what makes them run.
Marlowe: Find out mine?
Vivian: I think so.
Marlowe: Go ahead.
Vivian: I’d say you don’t like to be rated. You like to get out in front, open up a little lead, take a little breather in the backstretch, and then come home free.
Marlowe: You don’t like to be rated yourself.
Vivian: I haven’t met anyone yet that can do it. Any suggestions?
Marlowe: Well, I can’t tell till I’ve seen you over a distance of ground. You’ve got a touch of class, but I don’t know how, how far you can go.
Vivian: A lot depends on who’s in the saddle.
Great dialogue. They don’t write like that for motion pictures for ………sometime.
Of the 1000’s of crime stories available to the curious seeker on the WWW this one slice of real life (as opposed to fictional Hollywood processed spam ) was compelling.
Murder on a Sunday Morning  Available on YouTube
For a brief time one felt the Public Defender was playing a character out of a Dashiell Hammett novel. But not at all. While a film crew were ever -present, the integrity of Mr Mc Guinness and his co-public defender Ann shines clear.
After 10 minutes I realised I had seen this documentary before. What are the chances of falling on the same one twice? I may have answered that at the beginning. A few 1000 to 1. Instinctively I felt it was worth a second view. And it was.
If you like your heroes and heroines to be real, especially in front of cameras, take a look at
Murder on a Sunday Morning . As with most informative and or interesting documentaries I recommend, they tend to go AWOL due to YouTube copyright. Fair enough.
it’s curious that YT and their parent company Google (who are excellent by the way) while courting myself and a billion others to subscribe ecetera should see the need to clamp down on the very slight possibility of promoting themselves on a humble webpage such as this.
Howandever I urge you dear reader if a link is 404 or absent on my blog to check for yourselves my documentary recommendations.
An Australian documentary brings a fresh diagnosis of the economic debacle and an obvious treatment for recovery. This well paced narrated documentary (by Rachel Meagher) is insightful.
those well-known economists said in a completely different context…
‘There’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear’
Well part of the problem and part of the solution IS clear from this documentary.
Get those *******politicians (stupid, corrupt or both) to put a LAND TAX -in place!
Wishful thinking? I fear it is!
Links below may have drifted to 404 purgatory since placed here in 2011. Documentary Titles missing can be found at Top Documentaries or Documentary Wire or at any good documentary store near you.
Comments I made.
It seems many people believed in the entity that was Christopher Hitchins. No more so than he did himself.
Spare us the sentimentality of the comments “Hitch-you will be missed”.
The hedonistic materialist that was Hitchins – is now, immaterial.
or residual UK PaddyWhackery! This ‘hatchet job’ by camera flirting Mary Nash and Charlotte Smith might just show that the ‘oIRISH’ are still fair game for derision and discredit. Maybe Easyjet or Monarch could be similarly inspected.
If Ryanair were doing anything other than following clear Aviation directives; do UK begrudgers think their government would not intervene?
Who is responsible for training Ryanair staff? I point you to
St James Management Training Centre
CM23 5RG —
People who delight in disparagement of this service ought to look to the shareholders and /or the Board in Cyprus (which has never been an Irish colony)
The extremely professional pilots are trained in Ireland;France; Germany; rest of Europe; USA; and the far East…and yes -in the UK. Including the two in the documentary who seemingly flirt with the hack Ms Nash.
For safety in aviation check FAA/IAA/CAA.
Dispatches programme on this occasion was unusually unfair. Ryanair employ UK citizens from UK bases by the way.
The Big Question: Why Am I Me?
“7 billion and counting Sue ” I refer to error in population quote -not the number of her brain cells! I saw her image in the National Portrait Gallery London and she looked professorially fine. Now she appears to be seeking attention.You are admired for your mind, not your make-up Sue!
A propaganda for a retreating over-rated army ie British
that was 2001.The ‘Have it-Got it-Keep it’ Elite surely couldn’t get more greedy?. Yes they could!
As with most informative and interesting documentaries I recommend, they tend to go AWOL due to YouTube copyright. Fair enough. But it’s curious that YT and their parent company Google (who are excellent by the way) while courting myself and a billion others to subscribe ecetera should see the need to clamp down on the very slight possibility of promoting themselves on a humble webpage such as this.
Howandever I urge you dear reader if a link is 404 or absent on my blog to check for yourselves my documentary recommendations.
Had time under a leaden sky to ponder the big question. It isn’t an inquest into the folly of a casual smoke with a glass of something, but the big question most of us were aware of since the age of 5 or 6 years. The one about death’s unalterable presence.
Nothing morbid. I am looking for clues to dodge and weave around the Grim Reaper I reckon there’s no point in being a f***ing warrior for 60 years of brutal battles only to be slain by a stray bullet moments before armistice. Well there wouldn’t be if any of us were in charge of our fate. Not the sort of nonsense the lame-brained think of when they spew ‘you make your own ‘. No you bloody don’t!
Fate is a known unknown. A fickle sadistic b’stard’.
So I foolishly endure past, recurring, and current agonies in order to complete my temporal business. Sometime!
After a life of planning which we all were taught to do to a greater or lesser extent; I have been slow to learn ‘ to live in the moment’. I value each micro-second lately. However ultimately I am not in control of something that will happen.
As if that wasn’t bad enough……..
Having persevered in the temporal sphere it’s perverse in the deep autumn of my existence that the consolation prize of an eternal reward (maybe the one with delightful maidens) has all but been dispelled by scientific evidence.
It seems not even the infinite universe will be infinite or perpetual. The stars will expand, collapse and end. Our puny but useful star will consume it’s dependant circling orb. The expanding Universe will eventually lose it’s heat and light and petre out to non-existence
Still it didn’t keep Mr. Feynman from looking at the positive side….
WHY? I believe is the more important question. Followed by HOW?
Another notion is nullified. The song lyric ‘we are stardust, we are golden, and we got to get ourselves back to the garden’ is not true. The ‘we are stardust’ bit, I mean. Come to think of it the part about the ‘edenic’ garden too!
Despite celebrity physicists Krause; Greene; DeGrasseTyson&Cox gushing that ‘we are made of stars’ ; these very intelligent people are forgeting about biology which ‘came’ long after the great physics, big chemistry and gigantic geology. Billions of years of the latter and then lots of sex. Biology only covers moments in a 24 hour clock parameter of the Earths history alone. Much like the act itself.
Billions of years after the initial singularlity, swirling cosmic dust with the help of gravity aggregated to form what became planets and so on. Sometime after earth’s formation 4.3 billion ago, bacteria, atoms, molecules, and so forth up climbed the chain to little swimming critters right up to the stage where anything remotely looking ‘we like’ made it’s presence.
The nomenclature of classification such as hominids; habilis; australithicus; erectus; sapiens, are different for a good reason. The so called homo-sapiens (somehow too much homo-not enough sapiens for my liking ) has reached it’s current state by a lot of biological fluids. Our ‘we like’ had ‘stardust’ but only if you are prepared to stretch the notion .
So ‘us’ being stardust is a notion which is hugely diluted.
Sad to dispel the poetry but Joni meant well.
More on life and inevitable death anon
Lets break for a musical interlude on Jango
I recommend the following tracks which are in Chill-Downtempo on Jango.
lebanese blonde by thievery corporation
All I need; La Femme d’Argent; and Talisman by AIR
Destiny by Zero 7
Anonymous melody by org lounge
sol by solar fields
cry baby by spiller
dayvan cowboy by boards of canada
distant light by jimster
Move from downtempo for awhile and escape to
Ultimate Summer Chillout
Another new day
Bohemian sunset by Jazzanova
Yep! If nothing else you’ll be rewarded with a mainline entry to the jazz-rock supremacy of Becker&Fagan at foot of page
“ It may be due to ageing that his primary focus for some time was not to end up on the evening TV news. ” You don’t want to be a one liner on an autocue read by someone trying to keep a straight face” he reminded himself hourly”
“He was feeling heavy but not in the ‘hippie’ way More in a unwell sense. Sadly the default setting for much of the time”
“C is literally the difference between charmed and harmed. There’s a chasm in meaning. It’s likely that every human has a measure of fortune and ill apportioned to them from the beginning. Someone ran off with his quota 50 years ago (specifically late 1966)he muttered ruefully”
“He was optimistic that pessimism would not spoil his remaining time. He willed himself to live to 83 in 2038 when he could forget what went before and build what ought to be”
“ He would be a vegetarian if people stopped killing domestic animals. He’d be contentedly married if so many women hadn’t got in the way. One of those statements might be wrong, he mused”
“ Just give me the truth!-I’m 60. I can take it, he said!”
The strong-armed shameful treatment of the Scavi Excavations Office on the Via Paolo VI afforded me time to visit Cinecittà Studios. So while I lost some faith in the Church (the bureaucratic wing and a few thug staff specifically) I had a refreshing re-discovery of cinema. The European kind at least.
The very amicable and attentive staff of Cinecittà Studios were in stark contrast to the Excavations Office. More on the Scavi later but first things first.
but strengthening my spirit.
I will go into great detail later on how I went to the Eternal City for a third time in almost as many years but on this occasion came up against the less than holy Scavi Excavations Office
First time was in 1962. Of course I was amazed. I was 6. Last time 2010.
Actually May 2010, or the ballot closing night of a UK general election. We were diverted from Munich due to the Eyjafjallajöku volcanic eruption and I enquired whether the large queue at terminal Gatwick were there to vote. ( I entertain the crowds.) Samuel Johnson sometime earlier may have said some nonsense about being tired of life if one was tired of London. I was just tired.
However in previous times when London was the chosen destination it absorbed. One cannot go down Whitehall without feeling and knowing that this was the centre of the largest Empire in history, once. for a brief time.
OK. See you later.
But Tony has called for me to get back to 10 Downing St.
COPYRIGHT. MAURICE AHERNE.
Nous rendrons pas à la terreur.
Vive la liberté.
Why is every tragedy in recent times converted into a month of voyeuristic journalism which largely feeds the twisted psyche of the terrorists? The second heinous attack within a year on Paris received a reactive onslaught of speculations; postulations; presuppositions and theorizing second by minute by hour, repeatedly. TV folk who usually tour their government war zones in spotless flack-jackets miles from danger, turned their artificial eye of concern once more in 2015 to the City of Lights. Here at least, a better class of hotel was guaranteed after a hard day of repetitive mawkishness.
Tragic events which reach a scale of numbers get this media treatment. Talk bordering on the salacious is contrived to appear as empathy.
I ask. Would a day of descriptive reporting followed by respectful silence not suffice. The family of each victim will have a lifetime to carry the burden.
Since La Marseillaise et le Tricolour have been abducted by the assemblage, I’ll leave my profound sympathy with memories of La Ville Lumière
“Ireland is a good place to be buried. If you’re lucky it will happen post-mortem”
“Most people lose sight that they are less than a grain of sand in the Grand Scheme. Many see themselves as the entire beach. More fail to see the larger desert that surrounds it.
“If you win all of your battles except the last; you lose! That’s Fortūna at her most fickle.”
“Life would probably be a longer process without processed food”
“Deja vu is not what it used to be”
“First impressions are important they say. Who are ‘they’ by the way? Surely the shape from the ancestral mould ought to be more worthy than the impression!
“Consciousness if conceded to the consortium has consequences. So many cons seem constant! Don’t be controlled by the contagia ! Contest it! ”
” Consciousness under market control consumes consumables but ultimately is consumed itself. Ask yourself “Do you want to be little more than consommé?
FROM MY NOVELS
“It may be due to ageing that his primary focus for some time was not to end up on the evening TV news. ” You don’t want to be a one liner on an autocue read by some media monkey trying to keep a straight face” he reminded himself hourly”
“He was feeling heavy but not in the ‘hippie’ way. More in a very unwell sense. Sadly the default setting for much of the time”
“If C is literally the difference between charmed and harmed, there’s a f***ing chasm in meaning he murmered. It’s likely that every ‘body’ has some measure of fortune and ill, he went on, adding “but someone ran off with my quota 52 years ago “
“He was optimistic that pessimism would not spoil his remaining time. He willed himself to live to 83 in 2038 when he could forget what went before and construct a little of what ought to have been”
“He would be a vegetarian if people stopped killing domestic animals and packaging them on supermarket shelves. He’d be contentedly married if so many women hadn’t got in the way. One of those statements might be wrong, he thought”.
“Just give me the truth!. I’m 60! I can take it! “
“His biggest regret was not kissing or stealing kisses from every pretty girl he had laid eyes on” He in later years thought about it as a possible charity venture.”
Maurice O’Sullivan Aherne
Sometimes I write on local stuff! It’s parked away in my lesser highlighted blog
If you want to see my localised pain…..
Inventive and necessary short documentary I saw 3 years ago
A government levy on plastic bags was a great dissuader locally. Not many policies work or are useful just like the politicians Ireland, but this 12 cent on ‘pbs’ has had an appreciable effect.
If only every disposable paper or plastic product had a similar dissuader tax
It was however discussed and debated ad nauseum for years and caused outrage among the mass of consumers but mirabile dictu, it now is part if not parcel
🙂 of everyday life here.
I noticed the US;UK; and swathes of Europe (the latter, which I had assumed were well instructed on such matters) had checkout stations were plastic bags were free to use per item despite being pre-wrapped in many cases.
A little operant conditioning is needed. Humans can be trained in small ways to start just as they were trained to…
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The story put in the Ire Landfill. The message ought not be dumped there
The Irish hyper keenness for a football player called Roy was, and often still is, a curious phenomenon. How the media circus kept the story running for a decade is another one.
Or the very expensive version of
At the time 2002, I was in Las Vegas and spared this Irish version of a ‘Mountain roared and gave birth to a Mouse’. When I got back I heard the tale. It was along the lines of boy meets girl, boy falls in love, boy leaves girl. In this case the boy was called Roy, the girl the Republic of Ireland, and the love, I think, was football. Apparently the boy left the girl at the alter. The familes back home could never forgive or so on. One family blamed the girl, the other the boy.
No one mentioned how foolish this INFATUATION was.
None of the well paid merchants of…
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No hyper-celebrated Hollywood bozo actor could come close to portraying the spirit and humanity of the men and women on all sides who served their nation in twentieth century war. There were exceptions in this context such as Oliver Stone, and further back to James Stewart, Lee Marvin, Tyrone Power, Audie Murphy, Charles Durning; a select few others.
Wars are started by those who will never have to fight or die in battle. Politicians and military high brass are never remotely in danger.
What stands out amid the horror of combat is the bond or esprit de corps of the warrior. Moreover even in battle, humanity shines out to foe as well as friend.
In long dark nights of the soul which seem to increase with age not decrease I often review the history of generations before mine. If not by book; by YouTube. If you for one second are feeling a tad sorry for yourself -a quick antidote is to realise you never had to fight in the Pacific Theatre of WW2. Nor the Atlantic for that matter.
Copyright © MOSAherne 2015
It’s worth noting that a few photographers lost their lives alongside the combatants.
Apollo Soyuz. This is a display at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C. shows the docked configuration with the restored Apollo Command and Service Module used for testing prior to the mission the back-up, land a model of the Soyuz spacecraft.
Copyright © MOSAherne 2015
or months or years or decades, then maybe it’s time to TRY the Bossa rhythm for your soul. What better way than with Bebel.
Below in her more provocatively alluring fullest bloom
My current location is equidistant from the city of Cairo as it is from Jerusalem and Damascus. It’s virtually halfway between Benghazi and Ismir. More or less it’s a similar mileage from Athens as it is from Tobruq (of Rommel fame). It’s smack between the countries of Tunisia and Lebanon.
The location has been at the centre of human culture for more than 3 millennia.
Sadly the flight path covers the land mass where most brutal battles of the last century took place. These thoughts take one’s mind off the cost of food at 35,000 feet.
Have you guessed the destination?
Yes, it’s Crete. The spot where the first ‘europeans’ evolved 128,000 years after the trek out of Africa on their way up to western Asia. Today Chania Crete is just a reasonably priced air trip.
I watched war footage on Crete during WW2 some months before I arrived. The largest parachute drop in wartime took place here in 1941. There were many casualties on both sides. What happened on the island explains a little as to the reason an entire traditional shop in Chania specialised in knives exclusively. From a distance I thought it was a gun shop. Evidently the close and personal sharp instruments were the weapon of choice to repel invaders back in 1941. The island resistance slew German paras as they landed at Maleme and Souda.
NATO now controls the Bay of Souda.
Here’s a brief interesting video “I’m from Crete, I’m Minoan ” to encapsulate a civilisation.
It hasn’t been the greatest month with one thing or another. Primarily I had a less than successful journey to Berlin. Sometimes a visit turns out to be one too many. Ask the RAF. I dropped in between 2009 to 2015. Admittedly 70 years ago people had more to be concerned about.
Did I say a bad month?. It hasn’t been the greatest 19 months. Accuracy comes from counting the seconds. I recall less than two years ago telling a person that ‘things’ are fine just now, but you never know what fate has lined up” The listener said something to the effect “don’t be silly, look on the bright side”. Within the space of a week I was facing another significant challenge which continues to this day.
Stock ‘ya make your own luck , or “fortune favours the brave ‘ are clichés that are as useful as those who speak them.
Insight based on 6 decades of stoic resiliance. Fortune favours the fortunate! You can be as brave as a****** lion for as long as a ***** epoch without a grain of it!
Here’s a thought on the relativity of chance.
Some units of World War 2 soldiers were posted to the south of France moving up the Loire Valley . It must have been a bonus during hostilities to know that you’re at least in the best of all possible places.
However their comrades on Juno and Utah beach Normandy, would have had a diametrically different quality of experience, I suggest
Even the British at Sword beach or across the Med in Libya had much to do compared with those landing at Frejus, St Maxime, or Cavalaire-sur-Mer? Sunshine and the greater probability of living is preferable.
Which is a roundabout way of saying that there are different types of chance, or fortune. Operation Dragoon as the military called it, wasn’t easy. Yet it was easier by a distance. The distance physically in this case being the country France, but the experiential distance been incalculably greater.
Nor do you make your own luck like a pizza! How do you bake ‘random’. Fortune doesn’t follow the brave. It’s more likely to follow itself.
So ‘what to do’ as they would say? . Whether it be stupid of a person to jump in the nearest lake or endure. In times of crisis more recently I focus on the war veterans of previous generations. The brave follow the brave. These thoughts urge me from my sleep here in Crete. Traumata might be excised in the pages of a book I need to write soon. Time mischievously prompts.
No one likes to go into oblivion without being remembered-holocaust survivor Regina Spiegal
A few scream and wail like soiled spoiled children falling on their ice-creams.
The latter brings to mind a self-centred Irish writer (is there any other type)awhile ago. Someone called Nuala O’Faoilainn who with far less eloquence and far too much time gave a rant on her prospect of dying to her friend. Not just any friend. Her amiga happened to be the part-time weekend-work only please wealthy wiley Marian Finucane on the wireless. The latter gave the former plenty time to cry on the national airways.
Yet there was a bright side. One was going away forever!
Now if only the Marians Miriams Marys Michaels Martys Unas Clodaghs Clares* and one Keelin would follow or just go away permanently. *I use the annoying ‘footballers plural’ as the object of my ire deserve nothing more.
Listening momentarily to our broadcasters.
It’s more than life-shortening! Just for now…..
to be intoned dahs-tuh-YEF-skee not Dosstoyesky
Van Gogh is Vun Hucqk with a little phlegm
Admittedly I said Van Hock at one time. Life is continual learning OK?.
Then of course we have concepts such as ‘irony’ that are misplaced and misunderstood by those goons on media shows who believe they know about such things.
Spare us from losing more time on this O’Lord! Let our friend explain it all below in one easy lesson
We often look to those who might have experienced some portion of our circumstances.If you find yourself 100% in agreement with Bukowski then something is awry. Still for independent heterosexual men his thoughts do resonate.
Memorable aphorisms are attributed to many. Pithy comments are a yearning for literary immortality without much effort!
The hardly devine Bette Midler may have said something meaningful once to her pet or personal assistant but typically she is only self-absorbed when she said . “The worst part of success is trying to find someone who is happy for you”
WOW! Deep! huh? She shows sagacity slightly shorter than Solomon!
More memorably quotes……
“The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts.” Marcus Aurelius
Easier for you Aurelius! It was quieter back then.
“My God a moment of bliss. Why isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime?” Dostoyevsky
The writer and future name-drop asks for little.
Obscurity and a competence—that is the life that is best worth living.” Mark Twain.
Not so sure Sam hid away from fame.
We are far more liable to catch the vices than the virtues of our associates.
Denis Diderot. Denis is being serious again!
If evil be said of thee and if it be true, correct thyself; if it be a lie, laugh at it.
Tough! but it saves time!
He who sedulously attends, pointedly asks, calmly speaks, coolly answers and ceases when he has no more to say is in possession of some of the best requisites of man.
Johann Casper Lavater
This guy Lavater and Rud Kipling set a high bar
A good word is an easy obligation; but not to speak ill requires only our silence; which costs us nothing.
It requires less character to discover the faults of others than is does to tolerate them.
J. Petit Senn
Possibly but someone ought to do it now and again JPS!
And even more sustaining….
“Ester asked why people are sad.
“That’s simple,” says the old man. “They are the prisoners of their personal history. Everyone believes that the main aim in life is to follow a plan. They never ask if that plan is theirs or if it was created by another person. They accumulate experiences, memories, things, other people’s ideas, and it is more than they can possibly cope with. And that is why they forget their dreams.” Coelho
“I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.”
Not sure but I was possibly according to stats the 2,794,802,356th in 2.8 billion souls in December1955.
Now who literally f***** it up to 7.294 billion for this small planet? Didn’t they hear of contraceptives or abstinence …
for a period of time? Or was replicating themselves too enticing?
hasn’t enough #selfies# I include the use of my cyber nomer MOS with some acronyms that may be apt or not.
MOS Moment of SilenceMOS Measure of SuccessMOSMade of SteelMOS Military MOS Microsoft Office Specialist MOS Mean Opinion Score MoS Ministry of Sound MOS Museum of ScienceMOS Margin of Safety MOS Manual of Style MOS Military One Source (US DoD) MOS Member of the Opposite Sex MOS Medical Office SpecialistMOS Maryland Ornithological Society(I like all birds)MOS Mobile Operating System MOS Maintenance Operations SquadronMOS Mother of Sorrows (New York Catholic school)MOS Member of the Service (NYPD Sworn Officer) MOS Make Out Session MOS Matter of SizeMoS Manual of StandardsMOS Major Orthopedic SurgeryMOS Method of StatementMOS Major Operating System MOSMulti-Beam Optical SensorMOS My Own ScienceMOS Mute onSoundMOS Manned Orbital StationMOS Maintenance Override SwitchMOS Mit Out Sprechen/Sound (without speech; German/English movie term for shot without dialog)MOS Measure Of Suitability/StabilityMOS Mission Operational SpecialtyMOS MultifunctionalOperator SystemMoSMiracle of ScienceMOS Mission of ServiceMOSMan On the Street
mountain climbing and growing older
Life is like slowly circling a mountain upward; you can’t help but see the world from a different perspective. The air is thinner, the vegetation has changed; you are aware that you are two-thirds to three-quarters of the way up to the top. You focus on the trail ahead. You have scars from earlier rock scrambles that inform the way you climb now. The memories of all the trails you’ve climbed are imbedded in your muscles. You are intrigued by what lies around the bend. You continue to enjoy bushwhacking, knowing you’ll find your way back. This is the time to appreciate where you’ve come from, the ever-changing horizon and the extraordinary view from this height. An elevation marker is unnecessary and meaningless.
(by a source other than myself. I will endeavour to establish it)
or is it walking into the death zone imperceptibly. Laboriously have followed a route made by a number of committees. Physical energies spent, and so little time to enjoy the wisdom gained on the trail upwards.
and for the warm fuzzy feeling of interconnectedness, I take your arm gently and lead you to…..
Lastly, leastly, largely on local yokels or in some cases more yokels locally.
If there are duplications you must remind yourself you can never get enough of a good thing.
© Maurice O’Sullivan Aherne 2013. All rights reserved.
Humans have an extraordinary ability to forget, or is it an inability to remember. Usually it is very selective. Humans will ‘move on’ from a significant tragedy in 2 weeks, or a failure of politics in one. A failure in sport will last about a year.
I was flying to Berlin on March 24 2015 or rather on an airplane that was doing so. A day later I heard the news about the Alpine crash. Less than 5 days later media news moved on to some other vital topic. It was information on a Hollywood star’s life event.
Birds and fish often regarded as memory deficient would be sneering at such stupidity. They don’t of course as fish and birds gloriously haven’t human traits of ignorance and hubris
More on selective memory or forgetting later maybe.
The black art of convincing Clint or Ciara to consume these days has become so easy that creativity is not required. I would guess that a majority of the buyers of the Renault Clio since it emergence 15 years ago have been women. The denser male would be hoping for an automobile to become available called Penetratio.
Traditionally advertising had men selling products to women with a very patronising attitude. In subsequent decades progress in advertising meant men sold to women products with the premise that ladies were ‘calling the shots’ . From dishwashers to detergents a woman would be portrayed as cynically manipulating and often with a side serving of light hearted ridicule of her man.
The women in the role of ‘smart ass’ and the male in the the role of ‘schmuck’. This was progress in advertising. In effect doing nothing for domestic situations in the real world.
That both genders allowed or didn’t notice this is double as baffling. Insidiously the teasing art induced a universal ennui and an arrest in critical thinking. Men also sold products for women to women. It has to be said they probably invented and manufactured them too. How on earth did the ostensibly liberated ladies allow themselves to be patronised and dare one say infantilised in so many scenarios. Portrayed as surfing volleyball loving skydivers at a certain time of the month. Future anthropologists will have much material to study.
But wait a minute! Gone are the days when Madison Avenue and their siblings across the western world were gentlemen clubs. Decades on women, ladies, and girls have paid up like menfolk for their commercial school diplomas to join the ranks of adver-teasing, Marketing, and PR. Why has it not made a difference Why no change? The adventurous skydiving volleyball girl is now a prancing high kicking girl. If these corporations of selling are male preserves the glass in the ceiling will have women ogling at a man cleaning it while the reality may be different.
From these depths of mediated manipulation here’s some observations I previously omitted.
Positive aspects of media. The BBC. Specifically Radio 4. Their web page alone is alpha-omega of choice cut productions
Less than 200 miles but a world away is
Medi o’ crity in Oirland.
Here the dispensers of culture do so with a preternatural skill for patronising their audience. Yes that word again. They might as well be selling absorbent products. All have the God awful RTE Pale accent which is a very pale indeed version of eloquence. Dire! I’d rather hear a real accent from Dublin or Cork than this standard aRte arch speech.
Lyric FM presenters read the sleeve notes of classic and classical albums verbatim and aloud. So unashamedly it is extraordinary. But not more than ordinary enough to be worth my time or license fee. Incidentally I listen momentarily during ablutions in the morning and just before showering in the evening.
Some read with elaborate pronunciation, be it German; Czech; French; Italian; or Mandarin. Intolerable! They would not survive for long in Bejing, Bologna, Bordeaux, Brno, or in Berlin. The haughty hyper pronunciated frenzy of someone called Liz Nolan or Knowless is unbearable. She sounds like some sad or mad Aunt who is dying for a visit. Trying hard to be liked but incapable of self -reflection…..she whimpers need for acknowledgment. There is a definite equine look to go with it all.
Her colleagues are a short head behind her Somebody called O’ Carroll strives to hide the tedium of working the cliched classics for the herd Somebody called Kelly brings new levels of meaning to esotheric.
Another somebody called (whoever) sounding like an effete waitor during the Regency Period implores his audience to join him Someone called (whoever) whose intonation and delivery of late night jazz is like a parody of all late nite jazz jocks.
Some accented if not english born jazz jock reads the sleeve notes too. He is cut price compared to his compatriots in Bristol or London.
More from the 21st century Zeitgeist I hear celebrities, fashionistas, and the similarly clueless say ” to die for” when some trinket or foodstuff or cloth arouses their attention Others or maybe the same lot say when speaking about photography or cinema ” shoot us” . Now if only their favourite nonsense word ‘literally’ was included and actually applied to these events.
More idiots of the Idiom Isn’t it about time that sad ‘fillum moovee’ reviewers who sit in the dark and whose whole waste of space revolves around trifles and artifice learn that Martin Scorsese would actually appreciate his name to be pronounced as his good mother and father had wished it to be.
All together skôr-SES-ē.
Many clowns do not a circus make but it’s a close call. Marty Morrissey when not been naturally ridiculous, adds too often to be a mistake in his commentary on a hurling match….
‘he has his hurl with him’
Does Mr M. prepare a meal by cooking in a cook?
The media herd who ‘specialise’ in these matters ought to know. I thought that ‘hurl’ was a verb. Wiki admit that ‘hurl’ is an abbreviation of a hurling stick but only in Leinster or Ulster. Hurley being the noun.
I can therefore say that I saw Charlie Hurley play association football but he never played hurling. I saw Liz Hurley in South Kensington and asked her cheekily if she would like to hurl.
Longevity doth not bestow infallibilty. The octogenarian Michael O’ Muircheartaigh is not without blemish either. When concluding a documentary (ostensibly on football trophies of all codes) he referred to the Jules Rimet trophy as the “Jules Verne Cup”. Was he suggesting that the garrison game of AF could be science fiction? Jules Rimet and Jules Verne were both French citizens but that is all. Somewhere, Pele might be confused and considering taking scuba lessons.
George Hook of the irritable vowel syndrome; of distended discourse and bombast.
The format of informality
Until recently he was joined on a Friday by two others. One speech impeded (aren’t most Irish presenters or comics) and one lady doctor. They talked amongst themselves but in reality they were talking AT you. Each waiting to talk and selling something including themselves. It was all too cosy and self-serving.
Additionally, for those who like that sort of schlock (pitifully a lot of them)-there were and are variations on this conceit of informal radio chatting. Good cop, bad cop, father son schtick of Yates and someone else in the morning slot.
Take your poison. There’s loads to go around.
At RTE- it is!
Bill Shakespeare might politely say if he were still with us and had a telly “a slight, unmeritable man …..this Turd……Tubridy fellow”
This F-4E is 1966 vintage though the first Phantom was developed through the fifties into many series. I’m the all weathered superhot Irish December 1955 vintage human here. I got to sit in this F-4 which grants one a feeling of possession and liking ever since then for this powerful McDonnell machine.
The 289 began with the 33rd Tactical Fighter Wing at Eglin AFB, Florida in 1967. In 1969 it began its transformation into an Air Force Thunderbird assigned to the Air Demonstration Squadron at Nellis AFB Nevada. It earned it’s sobriquet “Super-fine 289”
Now I know what you’re thunking!. Am I two timing here at Boron?(North of Edwards). Actually this was my introduction to the model. Seriously if you happen to be as unlucky in romance as myself the machine was the only thing to caress.
News on the Hour every 59 minutes 24/365/whether required or necessary. So much News we're thinking of changing to a 25 hour clock