An tOlc Idir Linn agus Dia - An Creideamh Cailte Go Deo in Éirinn?

Agus An Spailpín Fánach ina stócach sa Chontae Mhaigh Eo ins na seachtóidí, níor shíl mé go deo na ndeor go gcaillfear an chreidimh in Éirinn. Tuigim ón stáir go raibh an Eaglais níos láidre, idir an dhá chogadh domhanda ach go háirithe, ach fágaim le huacht go raibh sí láidir go leor le mo linne.

Cuireadh craoltóireacht teilifíse ar ceal Aoine an Chéasta, in ómós an tSlánaitheora, crochta ar an gcrios. Dúnadh na siopaí go léir ag a trí a chlog, agus ní n-osclóidh iad go dtí maidin an tSathairn. Is cuimhin liom go maith amach ag súgradh sa ghairdín s'againne sa bhaile Bhéil an Átha, agus chomh ciúin a bhíodh an baile, tráthnóna Aoine an Chéasta, gach doras dúnta, gan duine nó deoraí amach as baile.

Scríobh an Sasanach Edward Gibbon ina leabhar cáiliúil Meath agus Leagadh na hImpireachta Rómánaigh go raibh an Impire caillte fiú amháin agus í i mbarr a cumhacht. Nuair a d'fhoilsigh Caesar Augustus go raibh sé éirithe ina Dhia chomh leis bheith ina fhear, bhí deireadh céanna seo leis an sliocht Rómánach agus a slí bheatha go léir. Cailleadh iad caoga bliain roimhe sin, nuair a tháinig Julius Caesar trasna na h-abhainn Rubicon, thit Poblacht na Róimhe agus d'éirigh an Impreacht ina h-áit.

Feicimid an scéal céanna anois leis an gcreideamh in Éirinn. Ba chúis bhróid na tíre é gur sheasamar inár n-aonar ar son an chreidimh leis na blianta fola fada, i gcoinne lámh láidir Shasana, an drochshaoil, Sheáin na Sagart, Soupers agus gach chuile rud. Ba chuairt an Phápa i 1978 duais na blianta fada sin don bhfíréin nár bhog.

Agus an Pápa féin ar fhód beannaithe na hÉireann, ag rá Aifrinn i nGaillimh nó i bPáirc na Fionnuisce, BÁC, bhí na cúrsaí gránna, olca ar siúl. Ag an am céanna. Dúradh i sean-scríbhinní na hEaglaise go bhfuil peacaí an "a nglaonn ar Neamh ar son díoltais." Murab iad seo na peacaí sin, cén brí atá fágtha sa fhocal?

Dúradh ag tús na hEaglaise go raibh dhá saghas peacaí ann - peacaí déanta agus peacaí neamh-déanta. Go bhfuil an béim céanna ar an bpeaca nuair nach ndéantar rud maith mar atá ar an bpeaca gránna. Níl a fhios agam cén saghas peacaí iad nuair a tharla an drochíde seo. Déantar dearmad, uaireanta, chomh soineanta a bhí an saol úd. Ach cé a mbeadh chomh dall nach n-aithneodh feoil? Nach n-aithneodh cnámha briste? Nach n-aithneodh deor?

Sinne atá ag éirí sean, ní chuimhin linn ar chomh fada siar atá na blianta ina raibh an Eaglais ina cumhacht. Craoladh Father Ted i 1996. Trí bhliain déag ó shin, agus ag éirí níos faide gach uile lá. Tá na glúine fásta suas anois agus gan aithne acu ar Eaglais seachas amadán dá leithéid Ted nó Dougal nó beithigh salacha dá leithéid Brendan Smyth nó Seán Fortune. Ní fhéidir leo breathnú siar ar stáir glórmhar na hEaglaise ach an oiread, toisc gur athraigh gach rud tar éis an Dara Comhairle Vatacánach.

Níl fios acu go bhfuil a rás rite in Éirinn. Cuirtear gealt Nietzsche, an fear a dúirt go raibh Dia marbh, im' aigne. "Cad iad na séipéil nó na eaglaisí seo," a iarradh sé, "ach tuama agus uaigheanna Dé?"

Bhí an tArdeaspaig Martin ag caint an seachtaine seo cainte faoi leithscéalta agus admháil lochta. Agus an rud is measa atáid ciontach faoi na go bhfuil an Creideamh caillte in Éirinn anois. Tar éis na blianta fada fola. Creideamh ár n-aithreacha, a sheas in aghaidh doinsiúin, tine agus claímh, caillte go deo anois in Éirinn. Go bhfóire Dia orainn go léir.





Technorati Tags: Gaeilge, Éirinn, polaitíocht, drochíde, creideamh

Bushing Lushing with the HSE

If the current wretched weather has a benefit, then at least it’s keeping the nation’s young people indoors and not out al fresco drinking, which would be their recreation of choice. The rain is certainly doing a better job of keeping them off the sauce than the HSE’s current campaign is likely to do.

You’ve probably seen the ad on billboards around the country. An Spailpín has spotted it on Batchelor’s Walk in Dublin, above the car park in Sandycove and on the final billboard as you’re leaving Longford, heading east. What An Spailpín can’t figure out is what exactly that image is meant to do.

The guess is that it’s to discourage young people sitting on walls, drinking. How exactly it’s going to do that is harder to guess, because that image, especially in its five foot by ten foot incarnation, is up there with Édouard Manet’s déjeuner sur l'herbe as a portrait of bliss naturel. The perfect depiction of a perfect summer’s evening of conviviality and friendship.

Look at the thing – isn’t it gorgeous? Wouldn’t you feel like popping down to Centra yourself for a six-pack and hopping up on the wall along with them? Have you registered how sophisticated the girls are? This isn’t some bunch of nyuks here – these are the cool kids at school, the Fonzes, the Buffys, the Blair Waldorfs.

An Spailpín doesn’t have the figures for how much the campaign cost, and is too stricken in years to wait for a answer through the freedom of information process, but it’s a reasonable guess that the HSE would have blown between half and one million Euro on this ad campaign. And it’s reasonable to ask what exactly they wanted to get for all that money.

Did they want an ad campaign that warns the comfortable middle classes of south Dublin – themselves, in other words – that their offspring may enjoy an alcoholic beverage of a summer’s evening, or do they want to protect vulnerable children from making a very bad lifestyle decision, one which may cost them the rest of their lives?

The sickening thing is, of course, that one single ad could have taken care of both their own worries over Sodhrcha or Uirlis bushing lushing in Herbert Park and the actual children at risk – all you need is a still from the movie The Snapper of Sharon up on the bonnet of a car getting knocked up by Georgie Burgess while Sharon is comatose with drink. You then splash a head across this that reads: “Not alright, Sharon,” and put the contact details about who to talk to at the bottom.

This is a time when the money spent on these ads could be spent on not closing down wards in Crumlin Children’s Hospital. This is serious. Lives are at stake. This sort of stupidity is not good enough.






Technorati Tags: Ireland, politics, HSE, waste, drink

Has George Lee Changed His Tune on the Building Industry?

I'm only askin'.

(pic: today's Irish Indo)





Technorati Tags: Ireland, politics, George Lee, Fine Gael, media

Ryan Tubridy to Host the Late Late Show

The really astonishing thing, of course, is that The Late Late Show has lasted as long as it has. The very fact it survived under Gay Byrne for thirty-seven years is amazing in itself. But once Byrne retired, RTÉ realised that the brand was so enormous that it simply couldn’t be discontinued. The Late Late Show was drawing in far too much money to even contemplate the idea of Byrne taking it away with him on his new motorcycle.

And so it has marched on, presented by Pat Kenny, for ten years. Ten years! An Spailpín Fánach does not know anyone who enjoyed Pat Kenny’s Late Late Show, and yet the viewing figures were consistently huge. Ten years, and never been kissed.

The Irish nation sat at home in their hundreds of thousands every Friday night, during the most prosperous times the country has ever seen, to watch Pat Kenny pretend to be interested in what some B-list bimbo on some C-list English soap had to say about where she buys her shoes, her take on Martin Heidegger and the influence of phenomenology on his metaphysical theories, and why she loves Mamma Mia!

One of Gay Byrne’s countless gifts was that he had an endless appetite for this sort of stuff. Yes, he delighted in guests like Sir Peter Ustinov or Billy Connolly, but he was equally happy whenever Tom O’Connor popped over from the mainland, with limp jokes about golf sweaters. Deep in the hidden heart of him, is it the case that Gay Byrne was never as happy in his life as when he was interviewing Ken Dodd and the Beatles for Granada TV in the early 1960s? Was everything downhill for him after those impossible peaks?

How Pat Kenny must have despised the countless interviews with someone like Andrew Sachs’ grand-daughter, and her three charming friends. Pat Kenny, whatever else you may say about him, is no daw; RTÉ did a heart monitor survey once in the eighties to see what effect the cameras going live had on their presenters, and Kenny’s never flickered one single beat. Remember him on Today Tonight or doing the elections in the early 1980s, with the hair sprayed in place, and the steely silver specs, grilling Jim Kemmy or Martin O’Donaghue?

What a fall from that to “former EastEnder Letitia Dean talks to Pat about the effect being in the soap had on her life, being at her fittest at 41 and her current stint in the stage version of High School Musical in Dublin.” The horror, the horror.

Gay Byrne seemed to be interested in everybody, even if he wasn’t. That was one of the reasons why the famous Mike Murphy hidden camera sketch was so funny – it was astonishing to see Byrne lose his cool. Whereas Pat Kenny struggles to hide his boredom or his contempt. When Kenny tore up the entry of that lady in a competition who wasn’t impressed with her prize the writing was on the wall. Kenny is returning to current affairs now, and he’ll be much more at home.

And so Ryan Tubridy takes over. Every generation, perhaps, gets the Late Late Show it deserves. It is appropriate that Pat Kenny presented the Late Late during the property boom that is now devouring its own tail – Pat Kenny, who fought the battle of Gorse Hill, and ended up paying over one million Euro for one fifth of an acre of ground.

It’s hard to know what Tubridy will do with the Late Late. Miriam O’Callaghan was the obvious choice. She had the current affairs experience with Prime Time, and her very successful summer chat show proved that she could do light entertainment as well. And yet Tubridy has got the gig instead.

The most successful period of Ryan Tubridy’s career was when he presented a breakfast show on 2FM. He succeeded the Rick and Ruth show, and was succeeded by the incumbents, both productions that make Tubridy’s time seem like Jack Charlton’s reign as Irish soccer manager – gilded fore and aft by what went before and what came after. The rest of Tubridy’s output seems something of a mixed bag, making it hard to judge what the new look Late Late Show will be like.

What Tubridy will do with the Late Late Show is limited by the enormity of the Late Late Show itself. It is as much a part of the nation now as the All-Ireland final or Tayto crisps. What is more certain, however, is that Tubridy is very much of his time. A lot of people were hot and bothered about Kenny’s Late Late GAA tribute. One would almost wish for the GAA to celebrate 126 years next year, just to see what Ryan Tubridy would make of it.

For better or worse, Ryan Tubridy reflects who the Irish are now, and is the person to whom the majority of people aspire. The funniest thing that An Spailpín read in the speculation about who would take over as host of the Late Late Show was a squib in Irish language newspaper Foinse that Mairtín Tom Sheáinín Mac Donncha, presenter of Comhrá on TG4, had emerged as a dark horse candidate. Whatever else happens, Tubridy’s Late Late will not be anything like Máirtín Tom Sheáinín’s might have been. Whether that is a good or bad thing we’ll just have to wait and see.





Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, TV, Late Late Show, RTÉ, Ryan Tubridy, Pat Kenny, Gay Byrne

Star Trek

The new Star Trek movie is a triumph. Not just because of what it is, but also because of what it isn’t.

The makers of the new Star Trek get it. They know the single greatest element of a movie like Star Trek is that it’s got to be fun, and Star Trek delivers fun by the bucketload. For the first time in quite some time your correspondent wished that he were ten or twelve years old again, because if you see this picture when you are that certain age, it stands a strong chance of being your favorite movie until you die.

The movie is over-plotted slightly, but it is a small complaint. It’s no easy task to reinvent something that’s as established in the culture as Star Trek but the makers of the new Star Trek have been as successful in this as the makers of the Daniel Craig Bonds, and for that you can only take off your hat to them.

They are blessed in their casting also. Zachary Quinto is a marvellous Spock, taking advantage of the fact that this is a re-imagining to look at the character in a different way. When Leonard Nimoy invented the character his super-rationality was the novelty. But now, because the Spock character is so large in the culture, forty years after the TV show first aired, Quinto is able to focus on Spock’s repressed emotions rather the no-longer-novel idea of Vulcan logic, and Spock is very much the centre of the show in consequence.

The writers have to take credit also for a very witty and well-judged script. There is one scene early in the movie, when the child Spock is being bullied by the other Vulcan kids for being half-human. “Spock,” they say, as they gather behind them. Spock knows their game. “I presume you have prepared fresh insults yet again for today?” he asks, wearily. “Affirmative,” says one of the bullies.

That slew me.

The movie is gloriously and unapologetically shallow. Chris Pine’s James T Kirk is an uncomplicated alpha male who wants to get his way and isn’t too bothered about anything outside of that. Anybody looking for messages will have to pop down to Spar or Centra instead.

In one way this is slightly off-brand, because Star Trek was always seen as the thinking man’s sci-fi. But the producers have two reasons for going with the uncomplicated approach.

The first is that The Dark Knight was weighed down with strum und drang more than its ability to carry all that philosophising. It’s a comic book, not Schopenhauer. As for Watchmen, that was just rubbish. Far better that Star Trek takes the delivery of an uncomplicated good time at the movies as its remit, and piles on the thrills.

The second reason – and this is just a guess – is that the first Star Trek movie in 1979 had one of the most thought-provoking plots of all the Star Trek movies, but nobody noticed and the movie is generally considered a disappointment. Unfairly so. They boiled it down to brass tacks for Star Trek II, which is about some crazy bastard out in space and the Enterprise is sent out to blow him out of the sky. Exactly the same as the plot of this year’s movie. No daws in Paramount pictures, you know.

There will be sequels – the box office and the almost universally ecstatic reviews dictate it will be so. It will be interesting to see if they can keep the magic, or if, like the Spider-Man and X-Men franchises, they disappear under the weight of expectation. Here’s hoping the new Star Trek lives long, and prospers.







Technorati Tags: culture, movies, Star Trek, The Dark Knight, Watchmen

Jamie Foxx - Oscar Fishing?

Do Hollywood stars attend each others’ movies? And if they do, do they play close attention? An immanent new release, The Soloist, suggests that this is exactly what they do.

The Soloist looks quite awful, judging by the trailer currently in the cinemas. Based on true story, the movie stars Jamie Foxx as a gifted musician who doesn’t play and lives rough in Los Angeles because he’s crazy as a bag of hammers. He’s discovered by Robert Downey, Jr’s cynical journalist, they two men go on a journey together to discover the beauty within.

Wretched, I know. But watching Downey talking to Foxx in the trailer, Foxx all shrugs and twitches and rolling of limbs, your correspondent’s mind flashed back to the last movie Robert Downey, Jr was in, and An Spailpín Fánach couldn’t help but wonder if Foxx had been to see it. And brought a notebook.

The last movie Robert Downey, Jr, was in was Tropic Thunder. Downey played an Australian actor, Kirk Lazarus, who is so into the method school of acting that he becomes black to play a black man in a war movie. Downey is utterly politically correct, truly inspired and would have been a worthy winner of this year’s Best Supporting Actor Award – even the fact he was nominated was a victory of sorts.

But what makes Tropic Thunder germane to the current discussion is a scene between Kirk Lazarus and Tugg Speedman, an action hero movie star played by Ben Stiller. Speedman had been in a movie called Simple Jack, which was his shot at making his bones as a legit actor, rather than an action hero. It bombed, and Downey's character explains to Speedman why he was never going to win an Oscar for it.

"Check it out. Dustin Hoffman, Rain Man. Looks retarded, acts retarded, not retarded. Counted toothpicks, cheated cards. Autistic, sho'. Not retarded. You know Tom Hanks, Forrest Gump. Slow, yes. Retarded, maybe. Braces on his legs. But he charmed the pants off Nixon and won a ping-pong competition. That ain't retarded. Peter Sellers, Being There. Infantile, yes. Retarded, no. You went full retard, man. Never go full retard. You don't buy that? Ask Sean Penn, 2001, I Am Sam. Remember? Went full retard, went home empty handed."

And now, one year on, here’s Jamie Foxx sawing away on his cello under the Los Angeles flyovers, doing his best for another Oscar. Looks retarded, acts retarded, not retarded. Still. Suits him better than picking on schoolgirls I suppose.





Technorati Tags: culture, movies, The Soloist, Jamie Foxx, Robert Downey, Jr, Tropic Thunder, Oscars

Ní Fheadair Oidhreacht Rugbaí na hÉireann a Cheiliúradh agus Ulaidh ar Ceal

Shílfeá, agus na páipéir á léamh agat i rith na seachtaine, gur ceiliúradh mór rugbaí na hÉireann atá ós ár gcomhair i bPáirc an Chrócaigh seo chugainn. Fíor go leor go dtiteann gach chuile rud go maith don meáin maidir leis an gcluiche seo - dhá philéar breá rugbaí na hÉireann ag tabhairt aghaidh a gceile i bpríomh-eaglais spóirt na tíre, Páirc an Chrócaigh.

Gabhaigí leithscéal bhur Spailpín mura n-aontaím leis an mbreithiúnas bog seo.

Tá an tuairim amach in Éirinn gurb ionann iad foireann rugbaí Laighean agus foireann rugbaí Mumhan. Gurb mar dhá taobh an pingin amháin iad. Go bhfuil ceangal measca idir an meas agus an gráin eatarthu, mar an ceangal idir Ali agus Frazier, nó Batman agus an Joker. Go dtuigeann na Mumhanaigh iadsan i scáth na Laighin, agus vice versa, agus go bhfásann ré glóire rugbaí na hÉireann ón dhá chúige seo.

Agus níl sé fior ar chur bith. Is scéal bog éasca don meáin é, ceart go leor, meáin na Poblachta. Ach ceann de na rudaí is fearr a mbaineann le rugbaí na tíre seo ná go mbaineann an cluiche ar an tír go léir, idir tuaisceart is deisceart, gan bacadh le creideamh nó polaitíocht. I rith na laethanta fada brónacha 'sna Sé Chontae, b'fhéidir leis an tíre foireann aontaithe a chur chun páirce. Ba mór an éacht í, agus is náireach go deo anois go bhfuil an meáin chomh sásta dearmad a dhéanamh ar na Ultaigh a thug an mhéid ar thug siad ar son na tíre.

Is gránna, freisin, éisteacht le daoine ag tabhairt masla do na Ultaigh, ó chúinne a mbéal. Is fear Connachta an Spailpín, agus creidigí mise nach raibh Uladh pioc tada níos coimhthíche dom im' ghasúr i mBéal an Átha ná Baile Átha Cliath 4 cáiliúil. Is fíor go leor gur Aontaithe iad na Ultaigh, agus chomh oráiste le gloine Fanta. Ach cad a ndéanfadh cat ach luch a mharú? Nach bhfuil sé ceart go leor gurbh Aontaithe iad lucht rugbaí Uladh? Cad eile ab ea iad? Cé ab fhearr ach Seoiníní chluiche an tSeoinín a imirt?

Nuair a cloisim daoine ag gliogaireacht faoi Leoin na Breataine agus na hÉireann iarraim orm féin chomh corraithe a bhíodh Jack Kyle an idirdhealú a dhéanamh agus léine na Leon a deich a chaitheamh aige san Afraic Theas naoi mblian is caoga ó shin? Bíonn daoine na tíre seo ana-precious faoi rudaí nach mbacann le mórán, agus ní thugann siad aire dá laghad faoi chúrsaí atá tábhachtach go deo.

Tháinig athrú mór ar rugbaí na hÉireann ó bhunadh an ré gairmiúil agus an Corn Heineken. D'éirigh le Mumhan agus Laighin níos fearr leo ná mar ar éirigh Ulaidh (bíonn Connacht i gcónaí ar leataobh maidir leis an rugbaí ar ndóigh, agus ní n-athrófar sin) ach ag an am céanna ní bheidh rugbaí na hÉireann chomh saibhir mar atá sé mura raibh na hUltaigh ann. Ní chóir dearmad a dhéanamh orthu mar a dhéantar faoi láthair. Agus mar focal scoir, seo foireann rugbaí na hÉireann agus Ultaigh amháin atá togha uirthi.

Níor imir David Humphreys mórán mar lán-chúlaí ach ní fheadair é a fhágáil ar leataobh agus ba é Kyle an chéad ainm a chuireas síos. Tá súil agam go n-éireoidh Humphreys chomh maith ag 15 mar ar éirigh le Neil Jenkins leis na Leoin i 1997. 'Sé Humphreys an t-aon cúlaí nár imir leis na Leoin, agus tá caiptín na Leoin is fearr riamh, Willie John McBride, againn sa phaca. Ar an drochuair bhí rugbaí na hÉireann íseal go leor nuair a n-imríodh Phil Matthews, agus ní raibh ach aon chaibín déag buaite ag Nigel Carr nuair a chuir buama críoch ar a saothar rugbaí. Ní chóir dúinn dearmad a dhéanamh ar cad a rinne fir Ulaidh ar son geansaí glas na hÉireann.

David Humphreys; Trevor Ringland, Harry McKibbin, Dick Milliken, Mike Gibson; Jack Kyle, Colin Patterson; Syd Millar, Steve Smith, Jim McCoy; Willie John McBride (c), Willie Anderson; Nigel Carr, Philip Matthews, Harry Steele.





Technorati Tags: Gaeilge, spórt, rugbaí, Mumhain, Laighin, Ulaidh, Corn Heineken