HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO US
Barack Obama credentials as US
president are often questioned, but one thing in no doubt is his
skill as a public speaker. He's a fantastic orator and if he walked
the walk like he talked the talk he would go down as one of the
greatest presidents ever. This week it was us lucky Irish he was
addressing with that silver tongue, or to be exact a select gathering
in the Waterfront Hall, Belfast. He said all the right things and had
the audience eating out of his hand, he even made a little joke about
the 'craic', oh Barack you're such a card. And as soon as he'd
finished the fawning began; it was as if Jesus himself had risen from
the dead (again) and turned a pint of Guinness into a keg of
the stuff.
How naive are we? Yes it's a good
thing that Obama supports the peace process and hopes relations
between the US and little ol' Ireland continue to prosper, but we
don't need to sound so grateful. Chances are that speech was written
for him by a member of his staff who specialises in such fare. I'm
sure Barack gave it the once-over before he committed to airing it in
front of thousands of people, but these missives are essentially
empty rhetoric designed to please the easily pleased, ie; us. It was
the same thing when it was discovered his ancestry could be traced
back to Moneygall in County Offaly, we practically creamed ourselves.
The same way we did when Tom Cruise announced something similar. It's
embarrassing.
I might not agree with Clare Daly's
assessment of Obama as a 'war criminal' but she was pretty much on
point with everything else she said. Here we are the poor, thick
Irish gazing lovingly up at our master just praying for a pat on the
head, they respond in kind and we wag our tails appreciatively. I'm
not saying we should make light of the Obamas visit but a little
perspective is in order. A blow-by-blow account of Michelle and her
daughter's holiday is not newsworthy, and it definitely doesn't
warrant a front-page headline. But then you are reminded that this is
the age of the celebrity. Who cares why they're famous? They're
famous and that's all that matters. Never mind that her husband was
here on important political business, she's going for lunch with Bono
for fuck sake, there's your story right there!
TRIAL
BY CAMERA
“Don't make a scene”, how many
times have you heard that one? You're knee deep in the mother and
father of all arguments but your main concern is avoiding
embarrassment, save it 'til we get home then we can puck the heads
off each other. Sadly Nigella was too busy choking to warn Charles
about making a scene. And he made such a scene that they were
plastered all over the papers the next day. Worse still he was
brought in for questioning and ended up being formally cautioned by
the police. Should have settled for a crafty kick in the shins pal,
no one would have noticed (insert compulsory comment about not
condoning domestic violence here).
But has this incident set a new
precedent? We already know that celebs daren't break wind in public
for fear of the media cottoning onto it but now it appears that the
tabloids have cast themselves in the role of watchdogs. Hundreds of
thousands of women suffer at the hands of abusive spouses but none
are fortunate enough – or unfortunate depending on how you look at
it – to have the act captured on camera. Instead they suffer in
silence afraid to go to the authorities for fear of reprisals. If
only they were famous and had the paparazzi tracking their every
move. Then they could rest easy.
AN ALL TIME GREAT
There's nothing quite like a
celebrity death to get the recreational griefers out in force. They
take to the Internet in their droves all battling for supremacy; he
meant the most to me, I'm the most affected by it, oh it's so sad. So
sad in fact that you can do nothing but post banal drivel about the
deceased instead of mourning their passing like a normal person. But
occasionally even a cynical cunt like me has to hold his hands up and
say “this is shocking and despite the fact I never met this person
I am genuinely saddened by their passing.” And that's how I felt
when I learned that, at the tender age of 51, James Gandolfini had
breathed his last. But who was I mourning? James Gandolfini? Or Tony
Soprano?
The answer is probably a bit of
both. Actor and character are intrinsically linked and for the vast
majority of people Gandolfini is Tony Soprano and always will be. I
heard one commentator liken Gandolfini's passing as akin to Marlon
Brando's for a certain generation. I'd go along with that, he was
that good. So good that I'd have no hesitation in comparing him to
any of the 'all-time greats'; Pacino, De Niro, Olivier, Nicholson,
whomever you care to mention, Gandolfini was up there with the very
best. But his legacy lies elsewhere. Before the Sopranos television
drama was a rather tepid affair, you had the odd hit show here and
there but everything paled in comparison to life on the big screen.
Then David Chase's masterpiece came along and it changed the medium
completely. High production values, incredible storytelling,
magnificent acting, this was better than any film and best of all it
was on every week. Look at TV drama now, we spend half our lives
consuming our favourite shows and the other half recommending them to
our friends. Top actors, huge budgets, massive audiences, it's big
business. And none of it would have been possible without the
Sopranos, and therefore none of it would have been possible without James Gandolfini.
JOE
KEBAB
I often wonder if Newcastle United
were put on this earth for our amusement, and then I remember that no
that's actually Liverpool. But them Geordies run them close. If it's
not good ole Kev telling us he'd love it or obese blokes going
topless in December then it's invariably something else. The most
recent episode of insanity saw this massive (sic) club relegated to
the Championship despite having the bestest fans in the whole world.
Oh how we laughed at their plight, well I did anyway. But then they
came back and instead of struggling like everyone expected them to
they did quite well. So well in fact that they gave their manager an
eight year contract. Hmm can you see where this is going?
They reverted to type last season
and narrowly avoided relegation, so clearly what was needed was some
reinforcements, someone to bolster the squad and help push the
magpies up the table. What? What's that you say, a 20-goal a season
centre forward? Nah let's get a senile old man and make him director
of football, that'll sort it. Now I like Joe Kinnear and at one point
I even hoped he might get the Ireland job. But that was a long time
ago. He's had health problems since and as Fergie recently proved you
should endeavour to get out of this game while you still can. But even though he
apparently speaks to him every week it seems that Joe isn't going to
follow Sir Alex's lead. Instead he's going to ensure that Newcastle
remain everyone's favourite joke club and keep the tabloids happy
from now until the start of the season. Aboy Joe.
THE
IMPOSTER
Everyone hates exams, and if you say
otherwise then you're either a weirdo or just too clever for your own
good. All that memorising and rote learning, not for me thank you
very much. Continuous assessment that's the way to go. But for now
we're stuck with the old-fashioned way; entering a hall and
regurgitating the stuff you've spent half the night reading and
re-reading. Oh if only I had someone to go in and do the exam for me,
like a really brainy mother for example. But although my mother is clever
enough in her own right when it comes to exams I think I'd rather take
my chances and go in myself.
But one French girl had more faith
in her old mammy then I ever would. Such was her confidence in mother
dearest that it was decided the elder of the two would sit herdaughter's exam on her behalf. She even went as far as kitting her
out accordingly in Converse, jeans and lots of make-up, off ya go
mammy they won't suspect a thing. Sadly this ingenuous ruse was
quickly rumbled and the 52 year old, eager learner was escorted out
of the building and straight to the nearest police station. Why the
girl couldn't have opted for the traditional 'write your answers on
your arm and cover it up with your sleeves' technique I'll never
know. But they both now face prosecution with the likelihood being
the daughter will never even get the opportunity to sit her exams.
Quite the result I would have thought.
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