Kathryn Thomas in leather?

I was reviewing some of the stats as to who visits the blog, etc, and came across some interesting stuff. Google leads people to me on the strangest of leads: 2 people found the blog after googling “Kathryn Thomas in leather”, 3 with “Jessica Fletcher serial killer” but my favourite was the 3 people who found my blog with the phrase “What is the gayest chocolate bar?” I take responsibility for the latter 2, but Kathryn Thomas in leather?

The other interesting thing (well, it was for me) was about the fictional stuff I have posted to the blog. I write the odd short story, mostly for my own enjoyment, and a novella about a maverick FF candidate called “Elected” of which I put up the first chapter. When I put it up, I asked people for feedback on it,  and have received mostly positive remarks about it. What I didn’t realise was that over 400 people had downloaded it, so here’s my question: Would people read it if I posted the whole story as a serial, with an episode every week? It needs to be updated (it was written during the Tiger years, and it shows) and rewritten in parts (one character mysteriously reappears from the dead. A zombie in FF! Boom boom.) but what I’m most concerned about is this just being a bit of self indulgence on my part, and the posting that everyone will skip over every week, murmuring about “not another failed f**king writer!” Thoughts?

Man’s ingenuity at its finest.

Captain Brian Bews of the Royal Canadian Air Force ejects from his CF-18 Hornet after the engine stalls in a low pass. Pics by AP.

Prague.

Just back from Prague, where I spent a gorgeous weekend with the love-of-my-life. I won’t give a travelogue, as there are those capable of being far more comprehensive than me, but a few observations.

Stayed in the Park Inn (www.prague.parkinn.cz) which, although a little further out of the city centre than you’d like, is well served by a tram that can get you in, in less than 10 minutes. They do a nice breakfast (I always judge a place by its scrambled eggs, and they passed with flying colours) and it is worth getting a “business-friendly” room for it’s airiness.

Took an evening dinner cruise, which was slightly naff, but the food was good and sitting on a open deck on a warm summer evening going through Prague is really very pleasant, and a good way of getting your bearings.

Had a meal in Dynamo (www.dynamorestaurace.cz/), where the service was a little slow, but the modern European food was excellent, and reasonably priced, and the murderous decor has to be seen to be believed.

Prague is a great city to stroll about on a warm summer evening, absolutely jammers with small pubs and restuarants full of character. One tip: The tram system is very handy, but plan when you want to get it, as tram ticket machines aren’t that plentiful (mostly in metro stations) and keep your coins, as the machines don’t accomodate note laden tourists. 

A question for my readers.

Every few days, I don’t post anything, usually at weekends, because I have been advised by some readers that I actually post more material faster then they can read (not everyone visits everyday, which I can understand)  and it creates a long backlog that they just have not got time to read. If I post a particularly long post, I tend to leave it alone for a day or two. Any thoughts?

The Guilt of The Economist Reader.

The Economist: They’re writing faster than I can read.

I’ve decided not to renew my Economist subscription. Nothing to do with the quality of the magazine (which insists upon calling itself a newspaper, by the way) but because I have, like many Economist readers, a pile of unread Economists sitting on my desk making me feel guilty that I don’t know enough about why Indonesia is at a crossroads or know who is ahead in the Columbian presidential election. I find myself putting them in my car, in my bathroom, in my carrier bag, using it as gift wrapping paper (I’m not joking here. It actually looks quite well) and desperately trying to get through them, scanning them like a maniac and then feeling even more guilty because I didn’t take in that article on how scientists can now write the complete works of  John Grisham in an ant’s pocket.

On top of all that, my book stockpile is getting even bigger because I’m not reading them because I’m trying to get through the Economist. And yet, I really enjoy reading it, even though I don’t read most of the business or science bits. It’s a good magazine. So here’s the plan: Cancel the subscription, wear down the stockpile, buy it as I want to read it from the shops (at least I’ll be actually reading it up to date) and hopefully it’ll all work out and I’ll know who won the North Dakota Senate race.

Drink.

Reading an interesting piece in the Irish Times by Suzanne Harrington about alcoholism had me reflecting recently on my own experience with alcohol. I don’t drink. I’ve never drank, and it’s at this point that other Irish people always ask one of two questions: Am I a Pioneer, as if the only valid reason for not drinking is religious piety (I’m not) or, more bizarrely, am I anti-drink?

This question is always asked with an air of suspicious defensiveness, as if the questioner is getting ready to fight my unacceptable anti—drink bigotry. But I’m not anti-drink. My family all drink, my girlfriend drinks, although, it has to be said, no one in my immediate social circle drinks (at least openly, as far as I can tell) to excess. I don’t mind other people drinking, I just don’t drink myself. Having said that, I am finding as I get older that I’m less tolerant about listening to the opinions of drunks, and tend to quietly absent myself from events at a certain point.

     
One other thing: It’s taken as read in Ireland that most people start drinking young, as a result of peer pressure. This argument has never worked for me, in that I never found myself subjected to particularly harsh peer pressure. I was in an Irish boarding school for six years, and drink was an important part of it, and whilst there was pressure to drink, it tended to be more of the “you don’t know what you are missing” variety than any sort of social ostracism. Once it was clear that I didn’t want to drink, it was accepted by my peers, and I wasn’t alone in that either.

  
I’ve only ever encountered one Irish person I was closely involved with whom had a serious issue with my non-drinking, and actually stated that she “didn’t trust people who don’t drink” (that’ll be the drink talking!). She drank what seemed, to me, to be a lot, but because it did not affect her work she didn’t regard it as an issue. But I was genuinely surprised at her constant remarks about my non-drinking, in that I found it to be very un-Irish in its intolerance.

As a non-drinker in Ireland, it’s perfectly possible to have a satisfactory social life, and the smoking ban has, I suspect, brought many non drinkers back into pubs because it has improved an atmosphere that drinkers just did not notice.

Having said all that, this country does have a drinking problem. I’ve seen people choking on their own vomit (and having had to clear their blocked airway myself), men and women urinating in public view and regarding it as the norm, guys with gaping head wounds staunched by a torn shirt trying to get into pubs instead of A&E, and that’s before we even touch the black hole of domestic violence. It’s fair to say that this country has a drink problem that, like Catholic child abuse in the past, it is well aware of  but does not want to confront.

As with most Irish social problems, there is an acceptable casualty rate.      

What a load of nonsense.

Watching a certain world famous sportsman “apologise” for his “sex addiction” is just plain stomach churning. He betrayed his wife, and it’s up to her to forgive him or not, but to claim that the whole thing is an illness, as if it were out of his control? It’s a curious feature of modern American culture, where nothing is ever anyone’s fault, but a symptom of some syndrome. Hack your family to death? It’s not my fault. The Twinkies made me do it!

Give me the simple honesty of Berlusconi, who admits that he likes having sex with attractive women, rather than this faux act of contrition.

iTunes: A query.

You might be able to help me. Given that I have an uncanny ability to make hi-tech stuff not work (am on standby to be parachuted into Iran where I am, under Pres. Obama’s orders, to just stand beside Iranian reactors, thereby rendering them useless) I’m having a bit of difficulty with iTunes, so here’s my question: Is it possible to download ones’ previously purchased iTunes tracks when one no longer has access to the original computer they were downloaded onto? I’ve gone onto my iTunes account from a new laptop, and found that they are not listed at all on my account. Thoughts? Or should I just use a hammer?

A little bit of fiction: Auto-Taoiseach.

May I see you PPS number please, citizen?

A short story penned over the Christmas. A multinational proposes a deal with a cash-strapped Irish government, to run Ireland with an supercomputer. You can read it here.

The Seafarer.

Would recommend with enthusiasm Conor McPherson’s “The Seafarer” currently on in The Abbey.

Was dramatic, funny, and set in a recognizable Ireland as opposed to the “Suffrin’” Ireland so beloved by  writers. Very strong cast, with Don Wycherley (of Bachelors Walk fame, although he probably hates that) showing a real talent for slapstick physical comedy.

This is good stuff, don’t miss it.