Your Country, Your Call: A Tuppenceworth Perfect Storm

Your Country, Your Call launched a week ago. Its self description “a competition to ignite your imagination and reward your thinking” might have you scratching your head.

Didn’t we already go though exactly this already? The Ideas Campaign was an almost identical effort run by PR firm AMAS’s Managing Director Aileen O’Toole in March of 2009. (AMAS counts the Department of Finance as one of its clients, along with 28 other public bodies)

That earlier effort to radically change the nation was launched in a blaze of publicity. Editors, journalists and producers, hungry for anything positive to report after months of misery uncritically gave the Idea Campaign space to promote its primary message- If only we could harness [insert noun of your choice] Ireland could rise again- without having to actually confront what had happened to the country. They described it as wanting to “focus on solutions, not problems”.

Radical ideas, it seemed, were required to avoid the pain of change.

Well, as you’ll all have noticed, despite boldly proclaiming on their front page “Ideas Campaign fulfils its goals” Ireland has continued on much as before.

The list of 17 ideas the Government declared it was going to implement are a mix of things already done (“Facilitate career breaks and shorter working week in public sector”) and things so vague as to be meaningless (“Make changes to job seekers’ allowance to incentivise placement of graduates”). This is not because the country has no ideas for improving. It is that there are no ideas that this government could implement, without self destructing.

Fergal has written better than I can on the paroxysm of Magical Thinking which has gripped Ireland for the last year. I hope he might even revisit the subject again.

Only vested interests, boosters and snake-oil salesmen demand we look to the future and not try to revisit (or identify) the mistakes of the past. For the rest of us, ‘Let’s do something to fix Ireland’ is an impossible position to take without defining what is wrong.

Aware of this, the government has enthusiastically embraced the catch-all responsibility avoiding phrase “we are where we are”. The Ideas Campaign and now Your Country, Your Call are a manifestation of the same empty demand. Other magical thinking projects come to nothing because there is no there there. These ‘official’ projects go further.

Nothing will come of them because nothing is meant to come of them. Nothing is exactly the aim.

Your Country, Your Call: 1st Week Greatest Hits

1. Proposal: Introduce a policy of deliberate Professional Negligence in Criminal Defence.
2. Proposal: “The voting process will become a mere formality to sustain our sense of democracy”. Sold!
3. Proposal: “It would be a good idea for Europe to help by printing more euro.” Duh! Why did nobody think of this before now. Financial Crisis, Solved.
4. Proposal:“gather & use all the cattle manure in this country and have the nations artists sculpt them into giant statues resembling the Easter Island ones”
5. Proposal: Ireland to give a tax break/ tax free status to billionaires. “Let’s work our hearts out for them.”

My Liveblogged Year, Part One

The parish of Tuppenceworth has seen it’s best writing, and best thinking, in 2009. Unfortunately for me, all of it was produced by Fergal. I have bumped along, the Bez to his Ryder, cheerfully waving my maracas whenever I thought anyone was looking.

But that isn’t to say I abandoned the web this year. In fact, I probably have more posts with my name beside them than ever. They just all lived on my primary 2009 project, Liveblog.ie. That site is now 13 months old and I have some thoughts about what I think I’ve learned from it along the way. But, as the nature of Liveblogging is collaborative, I’d invite you to give your own considered observations below and on your own sites. I’ll copy a sample up into the post as you do. This is the first part of a two part extravaganza.

Part One: Why bother?

Firstly, Liveblog.ie was always an experiment. I started it after a few tries on Tuppenceworth. Here’s the first outing- a drifting solitary meander around John Waters. Hardly a liveblog at all- I’m on my own, talking to myself. Or Fergal may have joined in too. ScribbleLive at the time didn’t indicate who’s said what.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed it enough to do it again. There was no appointment to watch yet. I was just typing about whatever was on the television in front of me. As the technology underlying the ScribbleLive platform developed, so did my use of it. A core group developed, some of whom were unlucky enough to be pinned to a table in real life and who listened to me as I wrestled with what this funny new kind of webpost might do. Those people- Suzy, Alexia, Mark Coughlan and Cian, amongst the many others who joined in night after night setting the medium’s tone- shaped and added to my mental image of liveblogging’s potential. I don’t want it to seem as though I’m claiming any part in their work- a liveblog is a collaborative act. Imagining them was likewise.

As a medium, liveblogging is still only a shadow of what it could be. But even still, the faint sketched in lines are becoming clear. And, as usually happens with an internet technology, I think the real impact of liveblogging will be felt in places the inventors didn’t expect.

Since doing the Paper Round with Fergal and Ger, I have been struggling to absorb the meaning of what we found. Newspapers are failing. This is important because they are the primary source of original information for and about Irish society to allow it to understand itself. We regularly read references to the pressures on their business model- how ads are melting away. But Paper Round was done at the peak of a decade long advertising boom. It wasn’t a shortage of money that was killing the newspaper as a socially valuable medium.

They had simply forgotten what they were for.

Press Releases masqueraded as news stories. Property Developers had verbatim PR pufferies about their wives’ dresses printed in multiple newspapers to drown out unwanted actual news from An Bord Pleanala. The readership was forgotten- taken for granted as the dumb swallower of all the paid for placed guff and uncritical relaying of untruths. If advertisers abandon a newspaper, it can tighten its belt. If readers abandon it, it dies. Sooner or later, readers will abandon newspapers full of empty stories.

When I eventually realised that newspapers were going to fall, I was concerned. With them would go the possibility they could improve. The Irish Press waxed and waned in quality and influence, but when it was gone, it was gone. Replacing newspapers as a whole class of information source will be impossible if we simply attempt to recreate what was there before.

You might argue I’m being sentimental. Why worry about dead trees and their inky pulp when we have the bright world of broadcast and online news?

Well, if you think print is dead, you’ve never seen the production office of a radio or television current affairs programme. They are the initial source of almost all the discussions and debate you hear throughout the day over the airwaves. And as any one honest will confirm there is no Irish online only news source with the capacity to replace the entirety of even the weakest of newspapers.

A democracy, and a society, must have a way of reporting on events and their meaning to citizens if they’re to make informed choices about what direction it should take. If you work from the position that newspapers will vanish from Ireland within 6 years you’re immediately confronted with the problem of how to replace them.

So, I started with the intention of seeding, exploring and perhaps helping to nudge into creation something which could, in a basic way, meet some of that need after newspapers. That was a greater success than I’d even hoped for. Check out the coverage of the Party Conferences last Summer, or the Local Election counts to see the ‘mirror ball effect’ at work, reflecting and highlighting hundreds of different points of view at once.

The cash resources required to produce these excellent rolling reports- running live over multiple days and nights in some cases- was negligible. That’s because the medium allowed us to ape Wikipedia’s harnessing of the knowledge (I don’t go quite as far as wisdom) of the crowd. As citizens we weren’t told by a central source what was happening. Instead, with only gentle touch moderation, we told each other what we knew. The broader picture grew out of those individual tales.

When, (or if, should you wish to remain cheery), I am correct and newspapers shut their doors we will have built a safety net.

In Part Two: What Next? I hope to show that as a medium, liveblogging is already showing signs of becoming more than just a replacement for traditional media. It may yet turn out to play a part in refreshing our political system and breathing life into the stale world of Irish television.

To Breda O’Brien: A Comment

Today’s Irish Times featured a column by Breda O’Brien headed “Internet Attacks on Church belie need for open secularity online”.

As I was recently involved in an Internet campaign to have the Papal Nuncio expelled, during which I debated Ms. O’Brien, the topic caught my attention.

My response to her column, which exceeds the 3000 character limit set by the Irish Times for comments, follows. I have numbered the paragraphs of Ms. O’Brien’s article for ease of reference;

The author states that;

1) She is against censorship in China.

2-3) Someone else (cited) is against Censorship generally.

4) The author poses a question, but does not provide an answer or indicate her own opinion.

5) The author declares her instincts are against censorship and indicates that she does not seek to uninvent the internet. She also without stating it directly, suggests that ethics need to be developed in preparation for currently non-existent technologies. She implies regret that such precognition had not been applied to the internet. She does not address how such magic might be performed.

6-8) The author complains that a news agency decided which parts of Papal statements were of interest to its readers, as opposed to relaying them the bits the Pope wanted attention drawn to.

9) The author then demonstrates that the news agency was correct in this assessment by using the example of an alternative news agency who did report as she, and the Pope, would have preferred. She presents her research to establish this.

10) It is not possible with the tools available to decide what the author was attempting to say or what point of view she was seeking to advance in para 10. Either it is that the Church is not ‘obsessed with sex and homophobic’, which seems contrary to empirical evidence, or that it is, which seems at odds with her being on first name terms with the Pope (see para 22). In either event, as it is not developed or referred to at any further point in the article, we may ascribe it to a difficulty with the MS Word wordcount feature.

11) ‘These kind of examples multiply across the internet’. The reader is now in considerable difficulties. No thesis has yet been advanced for this article. It has so far consisted of a series of discrete, unrelated events strung like pearls on the thin thread of their either relating to, or being referred to on, the internet. We have been given no way of intuiting what they may be examples of. The rest of the paragraph does not assist, being an observation of the political commonplace that a group of like-minded people banding together can hold more steadfastly to a point of view than isolated individuals. It is implied that this communality is to be regretted.

12) The author demonstrates that she owns a mouse and her computer has access to Google.

13-14) Apparently apropos of nothing precedent, the author attempts to paint the Vatican state and its Curia as naive innocents who continue to do things which look unforgivable solely because of a lack of awareness of how to use that self-same Google search engine. Given their millennium of experience in diplomacy, institutional warfare and actual warfare this seems an unhistorical explanation to advance for unpalatable decisions. Alternatively, the author ought to have offered them some lessons by now (see para 12).

15) To the mild distress of any reader who has been attempting synthesis of the preceding paragraphs the author now strikes off in yet another direction. She makes a series of unsupported contentious statements. These statements also lack connection to each other, as she does not specify whether it is the assumption of anonymity or a working internet connection which results in ‘people’ becoming base and abusive. Both are advanced, but neither is chosen.

16) We suffer a short digression on the moderation and publication policies of all newspapers everywhere.

17) “What can be found on other websites is even cruder”. This is an undeniable fact, as anyone who has had to research the Sex Pistols will attest.

18) The author advances the proposition that Atheist Ireland provides an example. Sadly, she still doesn’t choose to tell us what it may be an example of, so we cannot assess the validity of her claim. She then expresses her preference for the new blasphemy law to be challenged by means other than those used by AI. The reader can only await the author’s announcement of her participation or establishment of this currently non-existent campaign.

19) Surprisingly, no such announcement follows. Even more surprisingly, given the foregoing para 18, the author now declares that the comments published by Atheist Ireland were ‘not really the problem’. Rather she expresses her offence that people who object to the existence of a law criminalising blasphemy should blaspheme. The reader, a tolerant sort, is by now slightly concerned. The worry starts to gnaw that there may turn out not to have been any thesis being advanced in this entire article.

20) The author then extracts a quote from a person who does not believe that any good the Catholic religion inspires outweighs its more ignoble institutional representation. The quoted commenter expresses the regrettable, but not uncommon, view that ‘grubby old pederasts’ ought to be ‘wiped from the face of the earth’.

21) The author commits a failure of logic, equating all Catholics with the ‘grubby old pederasts’ the preceding comment suggested the world would be better without. Alternatively, she presents a bleak assessment of the faithful.

22) The author quotes the Pope, referring to him simply as ‘Benedict’. It is good to see informality of this sort in the frequently stuffy pages of the Irish Times. The quote appears to be a complaint that people ‘in certain countries, mainly in the West’ have been guilty of hostility and scorn. The reader may at this point reflect on whether a tradition of freedom of speech in Western countries might have inconvenienced the Pope. And if so, whether his preference, quoted with approval by the author, to be addressed by a different set of citizens to that which actually exists ought to outweigh those freedoms.

23) The author says she had a conversation with a representative of Atheist Ireland. She does not give any account of it so the reader cannot imagine for what purpose it is mentioned. The author commits herself to creating a set of opponents who will choose a form of expression more to the liking of herself and the Pope. She ends by warning the reader against ‘murky’ writings, such as may be found on the Internet.

As a reader, I can only look forward with interest, albeit tinged with trepidation, as to the methods the author intends to deploy in so altering those who do not share her views.

Group Studio Exhibition At Airfield House, Dundrum

My mother will be exhibiting at this along with the other Fine Art Printmakers who work out of the Print studio in Airfield House.

The exhibition details are

Airfield Studio Exhibition of Fine Art Original Prints at Airfield, Dundrum

Exhibition opens at 11am untill 5.30pm
Saturday 12th December.

Some of the artists whose work will be included in the show will be

  • Ruth O’Donnell
    Grainne Dowling
    Louise Meade
    Mairead Doyle
    Camilla Fannin
    Margaret Kallen
    Susan Early
    Ann Gilleese
    Aisling Dolan
    Kate Minnock
  • You’d be foolish to miss it. Also, Airfield House is quite excellent for a visit all by itself. They have excellent new piglets in the Living Crib, which my 2 year old son is looking forward to examining closely.

    Help expel the Papal Nunico- Email Minister Martin

    The following is the text of a message I sent to the 4,205 members of the Expel the Papal Nuncio Facebook Group.

    I’m posting it here so that Non-Facebookers can also read it and, hopefully, take the moment to click the link and send their message to the Minister for Foreign Affairs.

    I’ll write more about the experience of this campaign when the dust has settled. But great thanks go to the IrishElection.com folk, who filled the form with every TD’s email in the country.

    *****
    Hello all,

    This has certainly been an extraordinary week in the history of the Irish church and the Irish state.

    After a secret meeting between the leading Civil Servant in Foreign Affairs and the Papal Nuncio, we’ve seen the Taoiseach forced to abandon his prepared speech to mount a shameful defence of the Vatican State and the Papal Nuncio in the Dail.

    We’ve seen bishops forced to cut announced months of ‘reflection’ short and flee to Rome to resign in the face of public pressure.

    But most extraordinarily, we’ve see the power of ordinary citizens to have their voices heard on important matters. It was members of this Facebook Group, emailing, posting letters and speaking out in print and on air who drove the issue of the Papal Nuncio’s expulsion up the agenda.

    Now, reversing the Taoisech’s position of only Wednesday, Michael Martin, Minister for Foreign Affairs has announced that he will be calling the Papal Nuncio into Iveagh House to express the Government’s ‘disappointment’ at his, and the Vatican State’s, response.

    Your voices have brought things this far. Now we need to take things further. Please visit this handy email form set up by IrishElection to support us and email Min. Micheal Martin to say that disappointment isn’t the message you want to send. Tell him you want the Papal Nuncio to face the consequences of his stonewalling.

    http://www.irishelection.com/nuncio/

    It was your messages which ensured that the Minister must act. Please take the time to send a message to ensure that action is the right one.

    Thanks

    Simon McGarr

    Harry McGee on Twitter: Nothing to see here.

    Harry McGee is the hot young thing of the Irish Times political reporting staff. Having proved his thrilling modernity by running a blog while working for the Examiner, he moved to the Times and was one of their founding Politics bloggers. He lists amongst his interests on his new site ‘New Media and Technology’.

    A lucky break for the nation- a political journalist who’s well placed to understand the internet and explain its political significance to the nation- and to other politicians. We’re not exactly swimming in journalists who give the impression they could bridge those gaps.

    Which makes his most recent article “Politicians learn value of chirpy, chirpy Tweet greet” all the more disappointing. It takes an old media view of the significance of Twitter in Irish Politics, seeing it as just a new way for politicians to broadcast out their ‘message’ to voters.

    But, in fact Twitter (contrary to my expectations when I signed up to it in 2007 to have a poke and prod at it) has become something very new and very subversive of that centre-out model of communications. Far from being passive receivers of political messages, voters are talking amongst themselves about politicians and with politicians on an equal footing.

    This is a difficult experience for some Tweeting members of the Oireachtas who find themselves suddenly able to hear all the comments made about them and find them a bit harsher than what people say to their faces.

    Here’s @midnightcourt putting this idea to Senator Dan Boyle;
    gertweet

    And here’s Senator Dan Boyle replying;
    danboyle

    Which only confirms the point.

    But, then, we can hardly be too surprised if Harry missed the shifts in the national conversation which have been brewing in the last few months. Here are his most recent two tweets;

    harrytweet

    Yes, that second one is dated July 24th.

    What was aggravating about Chirpy Chirpy Tweet Greet is that we really do need someone to explain and describe the real meaning of this strange, organic, Twitter-powered alternative to the dead meaningless world of centre-out ‘messages’.

    Instead, we ended with Harry approvingly quoting DIT lecturer Ian Kilroy;

    he says it should not be oversold. “The message is the same. The platform is alternative but incidental. It’s a new way of conveying the message.”

    On the contrary, ‘the platform’ creates a new way of communicating, sharing, learning and deciding. Sure, you could just use it as another place to pump out links to your press releases. But good luck trying to plough on with the same dead message as everything changes around you.

    Ask the Home Rule party how that works out.

    20 Years Futile Toil In The Fairness Mines

    You know how it is. You get up every morning, wanting to make a difference. You slog through day after day, scanning the horizon for any sign- any clue- that your work is having an effect. But every day, nothing.

    So spare a moment to sympathise with Taoiseach Brian Cowen. In his recent interview on Prime Time he revealed both how badly he, and Fianna Fail have failed and how they ended up in this mess.

    You see it turns out that, contrary to almost every possible measurable indicator, Brian and FF have been working to try to make Ireland ‘fairer’.

    Brian Cowen can't say how disappointed in you he is.

    Brian Cowen can't say how disappointed in you he is.

    At 0:16:20 you can see him wail that

    “We’ve been building for the last 20 years a fairer society.”

    Now, seeing as they’ve had 20 years to chip away at the thing, you might wonder how they’ve been so spectacularly unsuccessful. The answer comes immediately when Brian gives us the definition of fairness he’s been guided by for the last 20 years.

    “We’ve ensured that we had a tax system where people could keep more of their own wages for their own benefit.”

    A tragedy. They devoted themselves for twenty years to bringing about “a fairer society.” They just didn’t know what such a thing would look like.

    Who amongst us will not now admit that after devoting two decades of their lives to letting rich people keep more of their money so that poor people didn’t have access to public services while trying to bring about fairness, that it is Fianna Fail and Brian Cowen who are the real victims here?

    Certainly, his demeanour suggests he feels it is so. He feels our ingratitude like an ache in his soul.

    Fascist!

    Last week, a Judge in Louisiana refused a marriage license to a mixed race couple. In the ensuing furore, he was careful to make clear that “I’m not a racist, I just don’t believe in mixing the races”. To which one can really only respond, “But that’s what racism is, Jackass!” What Judge Bardwell was saying was that he wasn’t in the KKK, had never lynched anybody, and didn’t keep slaves. Ergo, he was not a racist.

    Similarly, I once heard a co-worker explain that she wasn’t a racist, she just didn’t like black people. It was a matter of taste, that was all, “I don’t like Guinness either” (I swear to God, she actually said that.) When we have reached the stage where people can hold and express such views and yet deny being racist, I think it’s fair to say that there is no such thing as a racist.

    Certainly, there are very few who will admit to being one, and ultimately, you can’t prove it one way or another. In any case, we very rarely these days attack people for being bigots. Rather, we attack their words or their actions as bigoted ones. To turn around and say “How dare you call me a bigot?” is to change the subject (see Jan Moir for details of the versatility of this gambit). We can’t know if you are a bigot or not, because we can’t look into your heart and mind and discern the contents thereof. But we can quite easily look at your words and actions and call them what they are. The accused can’t defend what he said, so switches the argument to one about his character. Friends and colleagues are trotted forward as witnesses to his not-a-bigot-ness and before you know it, he is the victim. Often, flushed with this success, he decides he is a hero of Free Speech too, but that is over-reaching. But still, you can’t call a person a racist, a sexist, or a homophobe and expect to be allowed to make your argument, so perhaps we should come up with some new language to emphasise the difference between a person’s non-bigoted essence and their bigoted words and deeds.

    While we’re at it, it might be no harm to come up with a new synonym for “fascist”. It is almost proverbial that calling someone a fascist is a sure fire way to lose credibility in an argument. This is a real shame, as fascism is not simply a matter of goose-stepping and genocide, and alas did not come to an end in 1945. As with racism, you’ll find nobody who’s not offended to be called one, but plenty of people who hold what are, literally, fascist opinions. To demonstrate this, I need to say a little bit about the origins of fascism. There was a time when it wasn’t an insult, but a mainstream strand of political opinion. It arose in the midst of a huge economic and financial crisis. Politics were radicalized, as left and right wings became more extreme, with their disagreement sometimes being played out in violence on the street. But for every person who had drifted to one of these two wings, there were more who had no great interest in political ideology and just wanted a government to actually be in charge. We now associate fascism with the right wing, but at the time of its emergence, it was something very new, a Third Way between capitalism and socialism. It was not, like traditional conservatism, exclusively focused on the past, but was a forward-looking, consciously modernist movement. Pragmatism, innovation and industry were valued. The innate power and energy of the People was praised. Fascism didn’t over-think things. Fascism got it done. (the title of Triumph of the Will is perhaps the most succinct summation of the fascist ethos). In place of ideology, the flag was inserted. Neither left nor right, but [insert nationality here] was the basic position. Great emphasis was placed on “The People”, who allegedly had no time for the partisan bickering that made up politics. There was less respect for the will of the people as expressed through elections, when they voted for said partisan bickerers. Leadership was all-important. The question of whether the leader knew what he was doing was not so much unimportant as put to one side in case it led to “disunity”. Unity, banding together for the good of the nation was a key element. Just as the socialists, communists and some liberals banded together for the good of the left into a “Popular Front”, patriots of all stripes banded together into a National Front. Put like that, it sounds almost noble.

    Of course there was more to it than that. From the very beginning, a powerful element of aggression towards outsiders was involved. Some have argued that in the case of Nazism, it was only ever about the anti-Semitism, and everything else was only the scaffolding for the holocaust which was the movement’s raison d’etre. Certainly, the hatred was always a driving force. But strip away the more garish elements, the salutes and militarism, and you are left with something which is worryingly attractive to a lot of people.

    In the past year (also a time of huge economic and financial crisis) I have heard, on many occasions, the need to abandon ideology in favour of pulling together and wearing the green jersey. It is not entirely clear how this abandonment of difference is to be effected. If we’re all pulling together, who exactly decides what principles we’re pulling together behind? Some arguments don’t allow for compromise. This is not simply agreeing to disagree. If these differences are to be put aside it can only be by one side being forced to capitulate to the other. People don’t like to be accused of advocating the crushing of dissent, but there it is.

    I have read in newspapers that our Government, who have a majority and can pass any measure they want, are being hampered by the Opposition in their attempts to Get Things Done. If this state of affairs is allowed to continue, respected commentators have written, the very survival of the state is threatened. People think it’s rude to accuse them of advocating the abolition of parliamentary opposition, but I can’t think of any other way of putting it.

    I have read in the same papers that a national government (that government-without-opposition idea again) is favorable to holding a general election, even though any such election would represent an overdue adjustment of the make-up of the Dáil to reflect a change in public opinion. People get narky when you point out that they think the people can’t be trusted to exercise their franchise responsibly, but that’s what they’re saying.

    I have heard it suggested that “we” should “get rid” of the politicians, who have failed us, and “put” people who can get things done “in charge”. Michael O’Leary is often mentioned as a candidate. What scares me is not the fact that that if O’Leary was in charge of our hospitals the corpses would be piled up in the corridors. It is the notion, so blithely floated, of installing non-elected leaders. Michael O’Leary is too smart to run for office, and wouldn’t get elected anyway. So “putting” him or anyone else “in charge” would in fact be a coup d’etat. People take offense when you accuse them of advocating coups, but go look the word up in a dictionary, that is what it means.

    These startling arguments are trickier to counter than one might think, partly because you are fighting with one arm tied behind your back. You can’t express yourself entirely freely, because it sounds over the top to use the f-word. To call these arguments by their terminologically and historically accurate name is to cross a line that we prefer not to cross. Once you’ve called someone a fascist, there’s really no going back. You sound hysterical, and they are personally offended. It might be a good idea then, to find a way to talk about these ideas that doesn’t involve the f-word. We pretty much define a fascist as a racist, jew-obsessed sadist, and by that definition there are thankfully few fascists around. But it sets the bar awfully high and lets a lot of objectionable stuff off the hook.

    Fascism didn’t become popular without having a genuine appeal. It spoke to the baser elements of human nature. Those elements, the impatience with the delays, fudges and compromises that are an inevitable by-product of democracy; the frustration at rules that serve abstract principles rather than immediately practical benefits, the wish that someone would “take on” whatever group of people are the current object of your ire, and “just get the job done”, all are still present in humanity. They didn’t disappear in 1945, and they aren’t limited to any one country. The racism, cruelty and mania are what everyone remembers, but they weren’t what made fascism attractive.

    The Nicknames of Ill-Fame

    In contemporary Ireland, when one beer-sponsored festival has barely ended than another begins, to the extent that one is barely aware of their existence, it is easy to remember that these things used to be a big deal. While a Heineken Green Energy or a Murphy’s Comedy Festival will barely merit a mention in the “What’s On” round-up, there was a time when festivals would be endlessly trailed in advance, covered breathlessly while in progress and recorded for posterity.

    The daddy of all these was the Galway 500 festival of 1984, the 500th anniversary of the granting of a town charter in 1484. Cork, of course, couldn’t let this pass, and the following year we were treated to Cork 800. Then silence. But the pride of the capital was undoubtedly stung. It was one thing to let Galway have a bit of a jamboree. But Dublin was damned if Cork was going to be allowed to hog the limelight. And so, in 1988, Dublin went for the Grand. The futuristic-sounding Millennium left behind many artefacts; milk bottles, dust-bins, a 50p piece, but none was as long-lasting or as corrosive to the national spirit as the tradition of the humorous rhyming nickname.

    When Eamonn O’Doherty’s (actually quite attractive) sculpture “Anna Livia” was installed in a fountain in O’Connell St. it pleased someone to give her the nickname “the Floozie in the Jacuzzi”. Really, it wasn’t a bad joke. She was entirely unclad, and there was something not-quite-right about the fountain in which she reclined. Upon hearing the nick-name, one suddenly realised what it was: yes, she looked like she was sitting in a Jacuzzi. A small joke, not in the league of Myles’ “Tomb of the unknown gurrier” but not bad. Alas, it was held up to be a jewel of “Dub wit”.

    Then, the deluge. Two women sitting on a bench with their shopping? “The hags with the bags”. Molly Malone, wheeling her wheel-barrow, through streets broad and narrow? “The tart with the cart”. A former colleague of mine, a Dubliner of many generation’s standing, would go into a rage when such nicknames were mentioned. Patronising “Dublin Character” nonsense, he’d spit, condescending pseudo-working-class guff from the same sort of people who brought us Ould Mr. Brennan. But worse was to come.

    Nothing much happened in the way of Dublin public art for a while. When the money started rolling in, and Dublin Corporation resumed their always-dubious beautification of the city, it was decided by our media (“The hacks with the facts”? No, of course not) that every new work must, must, be given a rhyming nickname, however tenuous or tortured its logic. It often seemed that no sooner was the artist’s impression of a proposed piece made available, than the press were racking their brains and their rhyming dictionaries for a nickname, to be used by themselves and absolutely nobody else. The Millennium Clock? “The Time in the Slime”. Because the Liffey is dirty. And it’s a clock, like. Gas. The Millennium Spire? “The Stiletto in the Ghetto”. Because it’s on the northside, see?

    Clearly, taste was no consideration here, or at least not one that ranked above getting a rhyme. Why else would a statue of Oscar Wilde, a genuine genius, a proper, no-messing, actual Great Man, be called “The Fag on the Crag”. “The Fag”: someone decided that he was somehow qualified to dismiss one of the greatest minds the world, let alone Ireland, has ever known as “the Fag”. Not that the nicknames were ever claimed by those using them. Despite never being used by the citizenry, they were always presented as the coinage of the simple but charming Dublin people. Though in fact entirely journalistic creations, the pretense was maintained that our correspondent was only reporting to us what was said by “one wag”, or “a local wit”. A cartoon vision of a jolly, ballad-singing, “Arthur”-swilling rare-oul-timer springs to mind.

    The nadir was reached some weeks ago, when Orna Mulcahy (of whom more later) wrote her column about the Dublin Bike scheme. Ms. Mulcahy has an almost autistic-savant talent for parodying her own class, a talent which I suspect she remains unaware of. Having let us know that she decided to start cycling only after she saw it in a Woody Allen film, she sallies forth, with the customary attribution to “one Dublin wit”, with “The Yokes on the Spokes”. Let us remember that we’re not dealing with art here. These are bicycles. We all know what a bike looks like. The potential for a joke about the appearance of an item so familiar to us is close to nil. We know too, that bikes have spokes. But even here, humour may achieved. These bikes, they are the what with the spokes? The yokes? Seriously? Ms. Mulcahy is telling us only that bicycles are things that have spokes and expecting a laugh, just because it rhymes? That is the kind of thing that can get a journalist a nickname*.

    *Suggestions for which are gratefully received in the comments