Tag Archives: Shane MacGowan

Erin Go Bragh: Ireland and St. Patrick’s Day

Beannacht La Fheile Padraig

Beannacht La Fheile Padraig

Yay! It’s St. Patrick’s Weekend again. (It used to be just the one day, until the marketers, the Irish Tourism Board, and the drinks companies got their hands on it. Now it’s a five-day festival.) So it’s time to celebrate Ireland and the Irish. But please do it right, okay?

John Ford’s The Quiet Man (1952)  has a lot to answer for; and the less said about Darby O’Gill and the Little People (1959) the better. Hollywood has always had a slightly different view on Ireland than the rest of us. I suppose marketing what the country is really like is difficult, and not as profitable for the movie studios. But this is a country that has given the world Liam Neeson, Cillian Murphy, Colin Farrell, Gabriel Byrne, Brenda Fricker, Ruth Negga, and the Cusack family among others.

Wrong on so many levels

Wrong on so many levels

We have gifted the world the collective genius of Bram Stoker, George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, Roddy Doyle and Maeve Binchy. To the music world, no better luminaries than Thin Lizzy, Rory Gallagher, Sinead O’Connor, Van Morrison and, um, Westlife have graced concert stages and turntables.

(We do, however, offer our humblest apologies for James Joyce and Bono. Although I suppose it’s part payback for EL James and Justin Bieber. Ain’t nobody got time for these!)

Our sports stars regularly attend major events, such as the Olympic Games and soccer tournaments, and while we may sometimes over-achieve (except for Katie Taylor, who is made of pure awesomeness), we’re normally good value for money.

Van the Man

Van the Man

Yes, we do have our celebrated alcohol afficionados: George Best, Brendan Behan, Shane MacGowan to name but three. But overall, our contribution to the world of arts and entertainment should more than surpass whatever stereotype and cliched viewpoint there is of us. And while I agree that my country is awash with alcohol and drugs, and that far too many of our youth are following in the footsteps of their elders – thereby running headfirst into a health crisis – I sense a small level of change in our society. It is my hope that in, say, ten or twenty years time, we will have outgrown our addiction to alcohol and perhaps embraced our cultural heritage rather than our history of oppression.

While it’s always important to remember our past, it’s more important to learn from it so we don’t fall into the same traps our ancestors did. We’re better than that. Ireland is better than that. The world deserves and needs what we can offer.


Grumble II: The Sequel

Beware the rise of torpitude.

No, hold on – that’s not right. I’m getting a red line underneath torpitude. I don’t think that word exists. Let me try again.

Beware the rise of torpidity. (Yay! That one works.)

I’m no hypochondriac, let’s get that out of the way. Okay, I can moan and whine with the best of them, but usually I get over myself and get on with the job at hand. But that hasn’t been the case recently. I’ve been torpid (not torpedoed – that’s a different action altogether) and out of sorts. So I did what normal people do when they’re feeling this way: I made an appointment to see Dr. Kelly next Tuesday at the Fairview Health Centre.

I’m not overly concerned about my immediate health; but there is history of diabetes, cancer and heart disease in my family. On the plus side, I have my own hair, most of my own teeth and, to my knowledge, all of my ‘bits’ are working to satisfactory levels.

It’s been well over two years since I last sat in a doctor’s surgery, but I know damn well what to expect. I know what my problems are. I smoke two packs a day, I don’t eat well enough or often enough, and I don’t get adequate rest. It’s going to cost me 50euro for Doc Kelly to tell me to quit the fags, eat little but often – not forgetting to include five-a-day fruit and veg portions – and to go to bed early once in a bloody while. No doubt I’ll be told to indulge in aerobic activity, even if it’s too cold at the moment to make love by the sea, and to drastically cut down on my caffeine habit. But if that’s what it takes to get my mojo back, I’ll do what is necessary.

Otherwise I’ll end up like these guys.

Or worse – this guy.

Poor Shane.