A Complete Explanation Of Everything
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Only a game?
Average Premiership Player to earn €31,000 per week next season...
It's a headline akin to the old tabloid bumf about Naomi Campbell not getting out of bed for less than 10 grand.
It's 90 days there or thereabouts to the start of the Premiership with but a Copa America (minus Kaka & Ronaldinho) to tide us over in the interim but it's something to think on, is it not?
Next time, you see some no mark like Michael Brown, Ben Thatcher, anybody who plays at full back for Boro', take a moment to fundamentally appreciate that their earning power is that astronomical.
It's a short career fair enough but it's a real hair's breath thing for most of these players, there were kids who were better than them but for a large majority of players you'll see in the top flight, they're extremely lucky to be there.
Take Matt Derbyshire at Blackburn for example, started the season at a non-league club and now is in the England Under 21s and looking a decent player, yet not long ago he would have jumped at the chance of cleaning boots on a YTS scheme at York City.
Gary Breen famously went as a free agent to the World Cup in Japan / Korea in 2002, Ireland's answer to the Kaiser, Franz Beckenbauer. He came back to England demanding sterling 25,000 a week for his services.
Only West Ham ponyed up the cash and were promptly relegated.
There's a lesson in there somewhere between keeping them lean and keen and rewarding people for actually doing the job.
Ok, that's it for football till August barring fun in the Copa America or the odd Shels match...
It's a headline akin to the old tabloid bumf about Naomi Campbell not getting out of bed for less than 10 grand.
It's 90 days there or thereabouts to the start of the Premiership with but a Copa America (minus Kaka & Ronaldinho) to tide us over in the interim but it's something to think on, is it not?
Next time, you see some no mark like Michael Brown, Ben Thatcher, anybody who plays at full back for Boro', take a moment to fundamentally appreciate that their earning power is that astronomical.
It's a short career fair enough but it's a real hair's breath thing for most of these players, there were kids who were better than them but for a large majority of players you'll see in the top flight, they're extremely lucky to be there.
Take Matt Derbyshire at Blackburn for example, started the season at a non-league club and now is in the England Under 21s and looking a decent player, yet not long ago he would have jumped at the chance of cleaning boots on a YTS scheme at York City.
Gary Breen famously went as a free agent to the World Cup in Japan / Korea in 2002, Ireland's answer to the Kaiser, Franz Beckenbauer. He came back to England demanding sterling 25,000 a week for his services.
Only West Ham ponyed up the cash and were promptly relegated.
There's a lesson in there somewhere between keeping them lean and keen and rewarding people for actually doing the job.
Ok, that's it for football till August barring fun in the Copa America or the odd Shels match...
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Well, raise my rent...
Blazing Saddles is one of the best movies of all time.
I just had to post this screenshot that I found on IMDB.
If you're ever down on your luck, check it.
Mel Brooks' finest work.
C'est du business...
I've got to go to Brussels on Sunday, to work all day Monday, on a feckin' Bank Holiday.
Still, planning to go see some Brel stuff and drink some fantastic beer and stay in a five star hotel Sunday night.
I'll keep ya informed.
Current listenin'
Feist - I feel it all
Still, planning to go see some Brel stuff and drink some fantastic beer and stay in a five star hotel Sunday night.
I'll keep ya informed.
Current listenin'
Feist - I feel it all
It's official, I don't care...
You know, I stood on doorsteps and I listened to you.
But did you listen to me?
Did you heed a word, I said?
Did you think it was about you?
Was I there to offer something to you?
I was there, standing for the disenfranchised, for the impoverished, for the ones without a voice but you still expected me to listen to you. Cosy in your comfortable existence.
Waiting for me to barter for your vote.
What do I offer you?
Nothing but my contempt.
Welcome to democracy.
I'm voting you out.
But did you listen to me?
Did you heed a word, I said?
Did you think it was about you?
Was I there to offer something to you?
I was there, standing for the disenfranchised, for the impoverished, for the ones without a voice but you still expected me to listen to you. Cosy in your comfortable existence.
Waiting for me to barter for your vote.
What do I offer you?
Nothing but my contempt.
Welcome to democracy.
I'm voting you out.
Stag Review - Edited Version
Well, we saw off my best mate and whatever.
It was Galway, so we basically went and opened the wallet, tis expensive to holiday in Ireland as they say.
I arrived around 2ish on the Friday, Johnny was next and in fact, we were on our own for a goodly six hours or so. We located the lodgings and then went on a bit of a tour, hitting all of the main spots.
Yes, me and Johnny were three sheets to the wind when the rest of the boys arrived. Still, I managed to book everyone into our ok lodgings, direct the minibus and still manage to actually find my own room at the end of it all.
Then, shooting in the am, clay pigeon shooting to be exact... We hit a few, despite being an hour late what with the older boys Irish breakfast taking a goodly while to arrive... Then, of course, we abandoned an activity and fucked off to the pub.
The Slavic House in Salthouse to be exact... A good long day there, then somewhere else, for food, beer and more pool... A quick shower, up to Cuba in Eyre Square, the rest of the lads didn't get in, out and into Kennedy's. More pints then was healthy, out and into the town to visit a certain den of iniquity to do the necessary.
The next morning was not pretty.
10am, we were on the quays in Galway hopping onto the fishing boat. Deep sea fishing on a Sunday? With all that alcohol on board?
Bound to get messy. And it certainly did.
Only myself and Gaz didn't chuck, at one point, I turned and saw four boys hanging over the side, still I got to drive the boat and we didn't sink, which should be the test of any good captain when you think about it.
Jumped off on Inis Mor and we tried to recover.
Didn't.
Back on the boat, a 2 hour crawl back to Spiddal and then more dying in the pub. We weren't drinking, the three musketeers heading back to Dublin North in any case... We lingered with the rest and finally left Galway at 7ish and I put the key in the door at just past half ten...
A tiring but enjoyable weekend.
It was probably worth it.
It was Galway, so we basically went and opened the wallet, tis expensive to holiday in Ireland as they say.
I arrived around 2ish on the Friday, Johnny was next and in fact, we were on our own for a goodly six hours or so. We located the lodgings and then went on a bit of a tour, hitting all of the main spots.
Yes, me and Johnny were three sheets to the wind when the rest of the boys arrived. Still, I managed to book everyone into our ok lodgings, direct the minibus and still manage to actually find my own room at the end of it all.
Then, shooting in the am, clay pigeon shooting to be exact... We hit a few, despite being an hour late what with the older boys Irish breakfast taking a goodly while to arrive... Then, of course, we abandoned an activity and fucked off to the pub.
The Slavic House in Salthouse to be exact... A good long day there, then somewhere else, for food, beer and more pool... A quick shower, up to Cuba in Eyre Square, the rest of the lads didn't get in, out and into Kennedy's. More pints then was healthy, out and into the town to visit a certain den of iniquity to do the necessary.
The next morning was not pretty.
10am, we were on the quays in Galway hopping onto the fishing boat. Deep sea fishing on a Sunday? With all that alcohol on board?
Bound to get messy. And it certainly did.
Only myself and Gaz didn't chuck, at one point, I turned and saw four boys hanging over the side, still I got to drive the boat and we didn't sink, which should be the test of any good captain when you think about it.
Jumped off on Inis Mor and we tried to recover.
Didn't.
Back on the boat, a 2 hour crawl back to Spiddal and then more dying in the pub. We weren't drinking, the three musketeers heading back to Dublin North in any case... We lingered with the rest and finally left Galway at 7ish and I put the key in the door at just past half ten...
A tiring but enjoyable weekend.
It was probably worth it.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Michael O'Leary - Minister for Transport???
Sky News - Ireland's Fantasy Cabinet
Ok, so they had a survey and they probably popped most of these answers into people's mouths but whilst I can roll my eyes at most of the choices, the inclusion of Mick O'Leary, CX of Ryanair on two counts is simply astonishing.
Minister for Trade & Employment? What kind of yellow pack jobs do people want to bring into this country for fuck's sake. What do you want the economy to do? Provide sustainability, opportunities for people to develop their human potential or just fuck everybody over.
And then to top that, Minister for Transport... I'm sorry, I'd like to see us go forward from the current dystopian present that greets commuters, public transport and private car alike every morning on the streets of Ireland. A Ryanair approach to public transport? You could imagine turning up in Drogheda when you were trying to get to Dublin. Sure Mick would say to you, Drogheda serves Dublin equally well...
Crikey, they say you get the Government you deserve.
If people actively want this, they must be suicidal.
Ok, so they had a survey and they probably popped most of these answers into people's mouths but whilst I can roll my eyes at most of the choices, the inclusion of Mick O'Leary, CX of Ryanair on two counts is simply astonishing.
Minister for Trade & Employment? What kind of yellow pack jobs do people want to bring into this country for fuck's sake. What do you want the economy to do? Provide sustainability, opportunities for people to develop their human potential or just fuck everybody over.
And then to top that, Minister for Transport... I'm sorry, I'd like to see us go forward from the current dystopian present that greets commuters, public transport and private car alike every morning on the streets of Ireland. A Ryanair approach to public transport? You could imagine turning up in Drogheda when you were trying to get to Dublin. Sure Mick would say to you, Drogheda serves Dublin equally well...
Crikey, they say you get the Government you deserve.
If people actively want this, they must be suicidal.
Been there, seen that...
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Bosco's last theorem...
Hungover to feck and started reading Fermat's Last Theorem, whilst the book is enjoyable enough, I mused more so on memories of school and maths classes in particular.
Reading the appendix and the proof for Pythagoras' old favourite, the sum of the square of the sides of a right angle triangle is equal to the square of the hypotenuse (great word! Bet you never thought you'd read that on this blog, eh???) sent me over the edge and I thought I'd post some reflections on Billy O'Sullivan, my old maths teacher.
School was average, really average. Don't get me wrong, Secondary (age 12 - 17) was bearable enough, classmates were mostly shitty, other years also mostly shitty, teachers mostly shitty. But mostly it seemed like PE and our half hour of indoor soccer seemed like the only respite unless the girls got changed first and forced us into doing something like rounders (like baseball with tennis rackets) or some rubbish.
There were a couple of decent teachers though, Garrigan - Geography, Ms. Hunter - English, even Fogerty in Irish (that's Gaeilge to you) and of course, Billy O'Sullivan - Maths.
Billy O'Sullivan equals BOS intials wise and it didn't take long or much imagination to make the leap and add the "co" required to form: Bosco, Ireland's semi legendary puppet entertainer of children. An afternoon show, that on later reflection was clearly made under the influence of heroic consumption of LSD and other assorted narcotics.
Anyway, back to the maths. I was never particularly good at it but somehow Mr. O'Sullivan made it pleasant enough with his Cork wit and general asides. I could do each element well enough but throw me into the big exam and have questions on all areas it was plain that I was going to be dependent on a nice exam paper and a lot of luck to be skirting more than borderline "D"... Too big a risk but O'Sullivan didn't want to drop me from his class. We had about 12-14 people in our final year down from the original 30 or so. I was the last person to drop down to pass level but I didn't even switch rooms or teachers so late did I take the decision, I just got the pass papers out the back and talked about football with Mr. O'Sullivan and the rest of the lads.
Simple days despite the enormous pressure all the kids were under, I wished I had a bit more perspective about what it all meant that day but I got in the end, at the bottom of a pint glass and after four years of college.
I actually did applied mathematics for a while as an eight subject, shows you how studious and crazy I used to be. Seven or eight of us would turn up at around 8am and Billy would give us an extra class in the morning. Applied Maths is like a hopped up melange of physics and maths and in the end, it didn't take with me. Probably because our physics teacher was a load of old pony and was shown to be teaching a course of pure fantasy to us in the final event.
Still, Billy was a good sort and like I said, teachers like that pulled you through what was a pretty tragic experience, I was not a fan of secondary but my own life was not as miserable as it could get. Others had it far, far worse, I know.
The point of this post is simply raise a glass to Mr. O'Sullivan and say thanks, I'm still not very good at maths but you never made me actively hate it.
And that's a good thing.
In general.
Reading the appendix and the proof for Pythagoras' old favourite, the sum of the square of the sides of a right angle triangle is equal to the square of the hypotenuse (great word! Bet you never thought you'd read that on this blog, eh???) sent me over the edge and I thought I'd post some reflections on Billy O'Sullivan, my old maths teacher.
School was average, really average. Don't get me wrong, Secondary (age 12 - 17) was bearable enough, classmates were mostly shitty, other years also mostly shitty, teachers mostly shitty. But mostly it seemed like PE and our half hour of indoor soccer seemed like the only respite unless the girls got changed first and forced us into doing something like rounders (like baseball with tennis rackets) or some rubbish.
There were a couple of decent teachers though, Garrigan - Geography, Ms. Hunter - English, even Fogerty in Irish (that's Gaeilge to you) and of course, Billy O'Sullivan - Maths.
Billy O'Sullivan equals BOS intials wise and it didn't take long or much imagination to make the leap and add the "co" required to form: Bosco, Ireland's semi legendary puppet entertainer of children. An afternoon show, that on later reflection was clearly made under the influence of heroic consumption of LSD and other assorted narcotics.
Anyway, back to the maths. I was never particularly good at it but somehow Mr. O'Sullivan made it pleasant enough with his Cork wit and general asides. I could do each element well enough but throw me into the big exam and have questions on all areas it was plain that I was going to be dependent on a nice exam paper and a lot of luck to be skirting more than borderline "D"... Too big a risk but O'Sullivan didn't want to drop me from his class. We had about 12-14 people in our final year down from the original 30 or so. I was the last person to drop down to pass level but I didn't even switch rooms or teachers so late did I take the decision, I just got the pass papers out the back and talked about football with Mr. O'Sullivan and the rest of the lads.
Simple days despite the enormous pressure all the kids were under, I wished I had a bit more perspective about what it all meant that day but I got in the end, at the bottom of a pint glass and after four years of college.
I actually did applied mathematics for a while as an eight subject, shows you how studious and crazy I used to be. Seven or eight of us would turn up at around 8am and Billy would give us an extra class in the morning. Applied Maths is like a hopped up melange of physics and maths and in the end, it didn't take with me. Probably because our physics teacher was a load of old pony and was shown to be teaching a course of pure fantasy to us in the final event.
Still, Billy was a good sort and like I said, teachers like that pulled you through what was a pretty tragic experience, I was not a fan of secondary but my own life was not as miserable as it could get. Others had it far, far worse, I know.
The point of this post is simply raise a glass to Mr. O'Sullivan and say thanks, I'm still not very good at maths but you never made me actively hate it.
And that's a good thing.
In general.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Lyrics scrapbook part 2
Take another Saturday night,
I've got a thousand more before me...
Take another Saturday night,
Watch it die, watch it float on the breeze...
In about an hour from now,
I'll say something I won't mean...
I've drank so much beer,
It's starting to taste like the sea...
Because you took that corner,
Because you crossed that street,
Before me...
Because you took that chance,
Another Saturday night,
With someone better than me...
I've got a thousand more before me...
Take another Saturday night,
Watch it die, watch it float on the breeze...
In about an hour from now,
I'll say something I won't mean...
I've drank so much beer,
It's starting to taste like the sea...
Because you took that corner,
Because you crossed that street,
Before me...
Because you took that chance,
Another Saturday night,
With someone better than me...
Friday, May 18, 2007
28 pints later...
Lord almighty.
Ended up after a work thing at this bicycle courier's pub quiz in the International last night.
I think I'm on the guest list now for some major bicycle courier's thing later on in the year if I ever remember exactly what or when it is.
I also made a complete fool of myself with the german barmaid.
Grand night.
Wrecked now.
Ended up after a work thing at this bicycle courier's pub quiz in the International last night.
I think I'm on the guest list now for some major bicycle courier's thing later on in the year if I ever remember exactly what or when it is.
I also made a complete fool of myself with the german barmaid.
Grand night.
Wrecked now.
Life is short...
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
40000 homes for sale in ireland
That mightn't sound like much on the face of it but if you've been examining the car crash that is the Irish Property Market in any detail, you'll understand the significance.
DAFT - Ireland's biggest online property portal and only real source of a myriad of statistics in relation to the property bubble in this country just passed 40,000 listings today.
daftwatch, some concerned types who frequent the 'pin (see sidebar), graphed it thus:
In Ireland, we were planning on building 85,000 plus units this year, the builders seeing the blood in the water have already taken steps to try and cut their losses and have reduced starts by 25%. Consequently, I'd imagine we'll only build 60,000 units this year. However, with inventory building at a spectacular rate as if both the Autumn selling season of 2006 and the Spring selling season of 2007 did not occur (and in fact, they didn't), we have a situation whereby there were 15,000 properties listed last August and by next August, we should be looking at 60,000 units for sale.
A whole year's worth of construction.
And to top it all, there are somewhere in between 250,000 and 300,000 units lying vacant throughout the country.
For further detailed and informed discussion, check the 'pin.
DAFT - Ireland's biggest online property portal and only real source of a myriad of statistics in relation to the property bubble in this country just passed 40,000 listings today.
daftwatch, some concerned types who frequent the 'pin (see sidebar), graphed it thus:
In Ireland, we were planning on building 85,000 plus units this year, the builders seeing the blood in the water have already taken steps to try and cut their losses and have reduced starts by 25%. Consequently, I'd imagine we'll only build 60,000 units this year. However, with inventory building at a spectacular rate as if both the Autumn selling season of 2006 and the Spring selling season of 2007 did not occur (and in fact, they didn't), we have a situation whereby there were 15,000 properties listed last August and by next August, we should be looking at 60,000 units for sale.
A whole year's worth of construction.
And to top it all, there are somewhere in between 250,000 and 300,000 units lying vacant throughout the country.
For further detailed and informed discussion, check the 'pin.
Close to home...
This comic hasn't spoke enough to me to get into the links section but I really like this strip...
A webcomic of romance, sarcasm, math and language
A webcomic of romance, sarcasm, math and language
Some quality youtubin'
Stayed up last night, hitting a few brewskis and taking a trip down nostalgia lane...
First up, is arch hipsters: Curve, a 2 person group including sultry chanteuse Toni Halliday. I used to describe this band as being like The Prodigy only good which got people intrigued enough to take a listen. This is probably one of my favourite singles of all time off of a great record entitled: Come Clean. The video ain't too bad neither, check it...
Curve - Chinese Burn
Up next, a little something from The Pumpkins. This is a tune that I tend to cover quite a bit on the old acoustic but it's kind of galling that most who claim to like the band don't really recall it and it's not my version that is at fault. It was one of the best moments, if understated, on Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness and reminds me of what I'm trying to aim for, to a degree, when I'm making music. Enjoy...
Smashing Pumpkins - Thirty Three
Let's rock it up a notch or twenty with the next tune. Actually, it kinda links in because there was a heavy amount of inbreeding between The Pumpkins and Filter for a while. When Jimmy Chamberlain got thrown out for supplying the overdose (or at least being there) that killed The Pumpkin's touring keyboardist, the drummer from Filter was drafted into the band that they were supporting. I think that was the same tour, where in Dublin, a young girl was crushed to the death at the front of the stage during the first two or three songs of the gig. Anyway, this track from Filter was probably as good as it got for them, it features a killer bass line and is supposedly about the public suicide of some state treasurer in the US. Hey man, nice shot...
Filter - Hey man, nice shot
Next up, one of Dublin's great lost bands. Whipping Boy were contenders for a while, their album: Heartworm, still features on the best 100 Irish records of all time, etc. I forget exactly why they broke up but in Ireland, bands tend to develop a certain amount of momentum and then, well, there's only so many venues before you need to break out internationally. Never happened for these guys but it should have...
Whipping Boy - Twinkle
And to round off, the king of all videos, Depeche Mode & Enjoy the Silence. Directed by the ever visual, ever wonderful, Anton Corbijn, this really set the bar for what videos can and should be, it really adds to the ethereal arrangement of the tune and there's not really much more to say. Words are very unnecessary as it were...
Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence
First up, is arch hipsters: Curve, a 2 person group including sultry chanteuse Toni Halliday. I used to describe this band as being like The Prodigy only good which got people intrigued enough to take a listen. This is probably one of my favourite singles of all time off of a great record entitled: Come Clean. The video ain't too bad neither, check it...
Curve - Chinese Burn
Up next, a little something from The Pumpkins. This is a tune that I tend to cover quite a bit on the old acoustic but it's kind of galling that most who claim to like the band don't really recall it and it's not my version that is at fault. It was one of the best moments, if understated, on Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness and reminds me of what I'm trying to aim for, to a degree, when I'm making music. Enjoy...
Smashing Pumpkins - Thirty Three
Let's rock it up a notch or twenty with the next tune. Actually, it kinda links in because there was a heavy amount of inbreeding between The Pumpkins and Filter for a while. When Jimmy Chamberlain got thrown out for supplying the overdose (or at least being there) that killed The Pumpkin's touring keyboardist, the drummer from Filter was drafted into the band that they were supporting. I think that was the same tour, where in Dublin, a young girl was crushed to the death at the front of the stage during the first two or three songs of the gig. Anyway, this track from Filter was probably as good as it got for them, it features a killer bass line and is supposedly about the public suicide of some state treasurer in the US. Hey man, nice shot...
Filter - Hey man, nice shot
Next up, one of Dublin's great lost bands. Whipping Boy were contenders for a while, their album: Heartworm, still features on the best 100 Irish records of all time, etc. I forget exactly why they broke up but in Ireland, bands tend to develop a certain amount of momentum and then, well, there's only so many venues before you need to break out internationally. Never happened for these guys but it should have...
Whipping Boy - Twinkle
And to round off, the king of all videos, Depeche Mode & Enjoy the Silence. Directed by the ever visual, ever wonderful, Anton Corbijn, this really set the bar for what videos can and should be, it really adds to the ethereal arrangement of the tune and there's not really much more to say. Words are very unnecessary as it were...
Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence
iamfacingforeclosure.com
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Recently...
I've scored some wins in the good news column.
I've procrastinated as per usual on a whole bunch of stuff.
And I've also not be keeping in touch with all the people I should be trying to keep in touch with at the very least.
I've got new wheels and insurance sorted out now though and once I get a new camera to replace my good camera that is somewhere in Nantes (probably taking photos of the burning bins in the place du commerce following Sarko's election), I might even let you guys see it.
Basically, it's a terrific improvement on the old Mazda and all in all, the crash has set me back to the tune of €5000, which is probably not a bad price for the upgrade in quality. I just got my mind made up for me.
Going to Manchester on Sunday to see the Reds lift the ninth title since I've been following them, hopefully, it'll be a draw with a couple of goals so my second club, West Ham Utd don't go down. Would sour the mood somewhat.
Then, we've got Galway later in the month for Leon's stag so I've got to get onto his little brother this afternoon to try and make sure arrangements are going swimmingly for that (they're not!!!).
June brings a trip to the Slovak Republic, Jennifer from California is dropping by so we might go west for a few days and I'll get to hear how I got on in that aptitude test for the job with the Department of Foreign Affairs.
I probably did ok on the tests but there's no way to tell how much of the brain I've fried over the past ten years since I passed the last set to really get a realistic read on it.
Catch you later...
I've procrastinated as per usual on a whole bunch of stuff.
And I've also not be keeping in touch with all the people I should be trying to keep in touch with at the very least.
I've got new wheels and insurance sorted out now though and once I get a new camera to replace my good camera that is somewhere in Nantes (probably taking photos of the burning bins in the place du commerce following Sarko's election), I might even let you guys see it.
Basically, it's a terrific improvement on the old Mazda and all in all, the crash has set me back to the tune of €5000, which is probably not a bad price for the upgrade in quality. I just got my mind made up for me.
Going to Manchester on Sunday to see the Reds lift the ninth title since I've been following them, hopefully, it'll be a draw with a couple of goals so my second club, West Ham Utd don't go down. Would sour the mood somewhat.
Then, we've got Galway later in the month for Leon's stag so I've got to get onto his little brother this afternoon to try and make sure arrangements are going swimmingly for that (they're not!!!).
June brings a trip to the Slovak Republic, Jennifer from California is dropping by so we might go west for a few days and I'll get to hear how I got on in that aptitude test for the job with the Department of Foreign Affairs.
I probably did ok on the tests but there's no way to tell how much of the brain I've fried over the past ten years since I passed the last set to really get a realistic read on it.
Catch you later...
