Unsung Heroes of the GAA

On a recent trip to Belgium I participated in a World War I tour that consisted of visiting hundreds of graveyards. In these graveyards, some littered with thousands of headstones, others with just a handful, lay hundreds of soldiers that lay down their lives for a cause they believed in to the limits of their very virtues. As I wandered through one particular graveyard I noticed there were intermittent headstones that were simply marked “A Soldier of the Great War”, unmarked graves. Nobody knew who these men were but understood they fought and were vital components in the name of a greater cause.  

Afterwards, I thought to myself it must be soul destroying to give so much and take so little and where in modern society could this be evident. I then turned to domestic affairs and thought of a situation where this could apply.

What have an accountant, an electrician, a doctor, an unemployed, person, a student, a teacher and an IT consultant among many other professions and walks of life got in common? Out of the 2,500 domestic clubs and counting and the other 195 clubs across the world what is their common bond? If you were blissfully unaware of Ireland and some of its many unique cultures and associations you would hazard a guess at a political alliance perhaps or a religion or a cult even. However, the GAA is responsible for the unification of such varied backgrounds.

An amateur association envied by many professional ones that is run on blood, sweat, tears and voluntary work. An unparalleled amateur sporting organisation that is played and run at a professional standard. The effort required to excel in the competitive environment that is the GAA is one of almost superhuman effort. The effort put in at the grassroots level of a GAA club right up to the top at county level is highly admirable. The majority of this is done at a voluntary level.

If I am going to be honest I sometimes question the sanity of people involved in the GAA. I, as a frequent  participant from a very young age, have witnessed the processes involved in the running of a GAA club at first hand. It is no easy task to run a GAA club no matter how small or big and I can only imagine the time and dedication needed to run an inter county team. At club level however is where it all begins. There are pitches to be maintained. Dressing rooms to be swept and kept in working order and presentable.  Money to be found to make them presentable.  Jerseys to be bought and replaced again.  Money to be found to buy the jerseys.  Transport to and from games to be organised.  Money to be found for the transport.  Camans to be bought, insurance organised, treasurers to keep a tightrope on the purse, money to be raised to expand the club, coaches courted and poached, players to be kept happy, the best facilities to be found to train the players to a high enough standard so this process can be repeated the following year at a higher level hopefully. All on fundraising.

The men and women responsible for this, Presidents, secretaries, treasurers, grounds men, coaches are constantly oiling the cogs of the machine behind the scenes, often out of their own pocket, sometimes to no great avail and without success for years or decades, without praise. All for the love of the GAA. In between their forty whatever hour working week they go to the greatest lengths to keep their respective club’s heads above water. They are under no obligation to do this and yet they do. They sacrifice time with their families and loved ones for the sake of the club. They forego that family holiday because it clashes with an important date in the clubs calendar or the club needed financial assistance and “sure they didn’t really need that holiday”. They are the reason players have a pitch to showcase their talents, jerseys to take pride in and successful careers to bask in.

You may ask why? I am afraid there is no clear cut answer to that question. That is why I question their sanity. Is it a generic GAA disorder that a person who is born into a GAA orientated family will dedicate their valuable time to a cause that brings communities together and unites beings that would never otherwise cross each other’s paths. Is it the common cause to bring that cup back to the parish and display it with pride at the local schools and churches and convention’s. That cup that may not cost a whole lot yet is priceless. That cup is the culmination of not only the players resolve, determination, grit and sacrifices but the efforts of those behind the scenes, those unknown soldiers, their unmarked graves representative of their unrecognised efforts.

 I write this in recognition of these men and women, soldiers of the GAA, they are the rock the GAA is built on and without them we would never have Croke Park, the Kilkenny 4 in a row team, the exciting new generation of Tipperary hurlers, the Down team who brought joy to hundreds of homes last year, Jack Lynch a former Taoiseach, Christy Ring, John Doyle, Mick O Dwyer, Jack O Shea, the great Meath teams of the late 80’s and the great Kerry/Dublin clashes of the 70’s. We simply would have no GAA.

The right to life? How about the right to die?

"Well, let's take what people think is a dignified death. Jesus Christ, was that a dignified death? Do you think it's dignified to hang from wood with nails through your hands and feet bleeding, hang for three or four days slowly dying, with people jabbing spears into your side, and people jeering you? Do you think that's dignified? Not by a long shot. Had Christ died in my van with people around Him who loved Him, the way it was, it would be far more dignified. In my rusty van."


-Dr. Jack Kevorkian, July 29, 1996


Think of the person or people you love the most in the world. Now think of them suffering from a terminal illness or an insufferable disease or pain that renders their quality of life obsolete. There are a countless number of people worldwide who have no quality of life or can't bear the thought of another day in an inescapable prison of pain. I ask you, nay I implore you, to ask yourself what would you do to alleviate your loved ones as they deteriorate before your very eyes?


If they wished to avail of a service that would grant them relief from this torture, you would consider employing that service, would you not? Well it's not available unless you live in the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland, Oregon or Washington. That leaves roughly 190 other countries in the world where the person in question will almost certainly have to die an undignified death, suffering and in pain.


Euthanasia is a very contentious and controversial topic. It usually involves debates between liberals and religious fanatics. Dr. Jack Kevorkian or Dr. Death as he was "affectionately known", in the HBO film You Don't Know Jack portrayed a period in his life where he was known worldwide for the service he provided to very sick people. He provided a way out for the terminally ill. He provided a way out and an end to endless pain for those who could not see a reason to live anymore. Their quality of life almost or on the brink of being extinguished. Their candle that burned so brightly once, almost down to the wick. He was persecuted, ridiculed and branded a murderer. When all it appeared he wanted to do was help people.


Throughout the film you see time and again cases of people who have no quality of life left. Who have no reason left to live. People afflicted with disease such as cancer, motor neurone disease and MS. Debilitating diseases that leave these people in excruciating pain 24/7. In this country we cannot provide a way out because it would be murder if we were to avail of an assisted suicide service. Under the Criminal Law Suicide Act it is an offence to aid, abet, counsel or procure the suicide of another person to commit suicide. Or else face a penalty of up to 14 years in prison. The only other way is to voluntarily refuse medication or treatment and almost certainly die a painful undignified death.The concern is the current legal stance could result in people travelling abroad, while they are physically still able to do so, to avail of a euthanasia service before they feel they are ready to die.


The closest alternative is palliative care which allows the person to die a dignified death surrounded by their loved ones.However, the argument is, the person in question cannot die on their own terms. They may want to be remembered as they were, not as a shadow of their former selves. Not possible. Not fair, I say. The right to life and human rights are paramount in every human rights doctrine and constitution universally. However the right to die is almost non- existent in every one of these doctrines.


A person's autonomy is a basic human right. It is accepted that as an expression of a persons autonomy they can refuse medical treatment even if it will result in imminent death. However for some reason or another there is widespread condemnation of the notion of euthanasia. Euthanasia allows the terminally ill to die with dignity and without pain. Individuals should be able to choose a time and place where they wish to die peacefully. Surely it violates human rights to force people to carry on living against their own wishes. Surely it is immoral to compel people to carry on living in unbearable pain and suffering.


It would of course be vital to implement prudent and strict legislation. Examinations would have to take place with perhaps three to four mental and physical examinations taking place over a period of a year or eighteen months on the patient in question. Every precaution would have to be taken but the at the end of it all, if the candidate is legitimate, the right to die should be available.


The question shall be put to you again. Think of the person or people you love the most in this world. Now think of them suffering from a terminal illness or an insufferable, unbearable, agonising disease. What would you want for them? Surely you would want the option to relieve them of their suffering? Surely euthanasia should be an available option? The passage from life to death should be serene and dignified, not an agonising ordeal.


"Many are needlessly condemned to suffering by the chief anti-euthanasia argument: that murder might lurk under the cloak of kindness." - A.C Grayling, Guardian 2001


The below video shows the suffering of Dr. Miklos Somogyi who was refused the right to die and escape the torture of his disease:

The Marathon Man

It was a September evening, like any other, the sun was patrolling the sky and an Indian summer of sorts was being enjoyed by all!


I sat down at the kitchen table in my friends house with two of my closest friends and we began to chat. I had just returned from a trip away and I was in jovial but tired form. I was aware one of my friends had been visiting the doctor with a problem he was experiencing but while I was away he reassured me everything was just fine, routine problem.


I was eager to know what exactly was wrong with him upon my return and have all the news relayed to me anyway just to make sure he was ok (and that he was fit for a pint or two that evening probably) and I approached the subject. In no uncertain terms my close friend informed me of the inevitable diagnosis. He had cancer. Speechless. I immediately reacted as much for his sake as for mine with a defence mechanism, I used humour. "Aw sure youll be going bald quicker than you expected now" was my retort, knowing my good friend took pride in the fine jet black, spiky hair adorning the top of his cranium. And no doubt he did become bald quicker than expected but with the ultimate dignity.


I absorbed the shocking and mind baffling information while trying to keep myself from breaking down. I was screaming and sick, inside. I returned to my humble abode that evening and had a quiet whimper/sob to myself. However, in the face of things I was positive. I knew my friend had the strength and courage to beat this but he would need all the support possible.


Fast forwarding to today he has gone beyond a display of courage and strength and played an amazing 16 holes, theres two more to go my friend hang in there! As far as I can see this man has stared the beast that is cancer in the face and spat back at him and informed that particular beast that he can, in no polite terms, return from whence he came! Right from that day in September when he was diagnosed his attitude has been one of inspiration. However at this juncture, perhaps the real story of inspiration comes from those closest to him. Words cannot describe the admiration I have for his parents and sibling and his adoring girlfriend who have been there every step of the way. They have been his rock.


He began his course of chemotherapy several weeks after diagnosis and no doubt this was a shock to his system. He had lost an enormous amount of weight at this stage and I was tempted to sneak a steak or McDonalds or seven into him in his hospital bed. Alas, I formed the opinion this may not be such a good idea. The effects of the chemo began to take form. He had become weak and thin beyond recognition. At this stage, and I hope he does not mind me saying this, I was heartbroken. The man I knew and looked up to was but a shadow of his former self but at the same time staring adversity in the face. He was displaying characteristics you or I may never see in ourselves in our lifetime.


Weeks passed,as did chemo sessions. It's a tough business, cancer is. Hard to get ahead. However in true entrepreneurial and business like manner that this man is so accustomed to(Smurfit and taxis know all about him, you definitely made a profit on taxis!!) he was one step ahead of his opponent and still is. Times were tough, especially Christmas where the customary pint and hug and banter with your nearest and dearest lacked a certain presence due to the absence of one enormous personality. This personality has shone through in every way in his presence consistently and not one day have I been allowed a slip up in his presence no matter how sick youve been!!!


Days, weeks and months passed. Bald now. Unrecognisable to some. Could never be to us. I still hadnt heard a word of complaint and still havent. I consider myself the biggest moaner alive now when im around my brother!!! Another battle was on our dear friends hands at this time. Our fine political system, functioning like never before, are disgusting. In the face of every revelation and resignation nothing the government does now to reconcile the ordinary people of Ireland could justify their inclusion in future governments. The social services have a lot to answer for also. Think of your nearest and dearest suffering from a serious ailment. They seek benefits to help them financially. They expect benefits. They find it hard to function in every day life, never mind working. They are told they should be working, no benefits for you, no siree. Now, what would you do? This was the scenario facing this particular person.


Soldiering on, chemo session after chemo session he has taken everything in his stride. Nothing is getting in his way. This may seem menial to you or anybody else but there was one action on my friends part that has made me extremely proud of him. Apart from the inspiring attitude, the strength, the courage, the pride I have in him there was one thing that reassured me that everything is going to be ok. He was applying for graduate positions next September and I have no doubt he will occupy one. Drive and ambition are the name of the game for this man. Every time I ask him what the next step is he replies "oh I dont know well see", vague city has a new resident. However, it becomes apparent to me that this man is waking up every day with a glint in his eye and a fresh approach. Maybe making plans has been the key to his attitude.


With the gaunt appearance gone, meat back on his bones (could be a bit too much now my friend you might need to get into the gym soon, lay off them burgers, take a tip or two from a man who knows) and hair reappearing it is evident he is one step ahead, he is cruising in on the 16th hole 2 up and a putt for eagle. He is conquering all around him.


I have so much more to say and perhaps I could have worded this better. I sat down with just you in mind. Right now you are in a hospital bed itching to get home and see your loved ones. I wish I could spend every night with you there just to keep you company. Radiotherapy awaits but its no match for you. You are on top of this. You are an inspiration to us all and im sure I can say that on behalf of everybody. A braver, more courageous and inspirational person I have never met. We are proud of you.

A Law Unto Themselves

Well what can I say, we live in turbulent testing times but at least we have a government of stature and stability to rely on and a church of true values, morals and reliability!!!

You are excused if you are not outraged, frustrated, disgusted, baffled, speechless, surprised, shocked and appalled at the behaviour of some of the leading authorities of this country but only if you have been living in a cave on Valentia Island or somewhere of equal isolation.

The afflictions which trouble my mind and this small island of ours in particular are those that relate to politics and the faith of its people in every sense of the word. These may not be your typical page turning topics but they merit the space on a white blank page because they are so important.

It troubles me to see our small land of tradition, poets, storytellers, heroes, political revolutionaries, brave war heroes, a country that prides itself on the generosity of its people, the vivaciousness of its people losing its way and falling apart at the seams.

We are currently in political turmoil. This correlates and trickles all the way into the national psyche and drains confidence in the people of this nation, sapping hope from the many people that are lost in the mire of financial obscurity, health problems and so on in these troubled times.

Over a sustained period we have seen the downfall of several leading political figures that were cornerstones of this so called "government". I suppose the ball started to really pick up the collective proverbial shit that these idiots have left strewn on our nation when it became apparent that tax payers were being taken complete advantage of when the tale of "The Expenses" came to light. Leading figureheads using taxpayers money to enjoy the finer things in life and make life as easy as possible on themselves while other people worked and suffered to grant those privileges. These politicians are meant to represent and serve the people not drain them of their earnings for their own benefit and take advantage of them. It seemed to me that John O Donoghue, the Ceann Comhairle who had to retire because of this matter, was made a scapegoat for this particular debacle. He was not the only guilty party with many other TD's weighing in but not taking responsibility for their actions which in my eyes painted them as cowards but that's their prerogative.

We then saw the resignation of poor old George Lee from the leading opposition party Fine Gael. Mr. Lee was seen as the great white hope of Fine Gael when he was voted in in the last general election with the second most first preference votes in the country. The people saw something in him that they believed could make a difference to the ailing fortunes of this country. An economist with RTE that saw into the future,he was considered a saving grace. However it became apparent to George a couple of months into his tenure he had become nothing more than a face for the party and felt he was not getting his fair crack at the whip. I personally don't know what he was thinking being such a public figure in the first place and secondly why did he not expect to have to bide his time to have a lasting impact on the party. He resigned in abject failure and in a whimsical fashion expecting the people to sympathise in his plight of not getting his way.

Then came the farce that was the Willie O Dea affair. The then Minister for Defence had the audacity to swear a false affidavit in court. He accused a candidate in the 2009 general elections of operating a brothel and was subsequently taken to court. He was taken to court on the basis of these allegations but swore in court he had made no such allegations. However it emerged an out of court settlement was made and the matter was put to the side until early in 2010 a vote of no confidence in Mr. O Dea was motioned. The Green Party conceded they had lost all confidence in Mr. O Dea and he subsequently resigned citing that he felt the furore surrounding these matters was taking away from the vital job the government was doing. The irony in this matter is Willie O Dea happens to be a qualified barrister who seemed unaware it was a crime to lie in court. Farcical. I rest my case.

Then came the resignation of Deirdre De Burca from the Green Party. A woman who felt she could not operate in the confines of a political party she felt no longer was true to itself which was quite refreshing it has to be said. Good enough reason and noble enough reason to resign, staying true to your values.

And last but not least we had dear old Trevor Sargent, the Green Party TD who embodied their values and probably should not have been lambasted over his actions which led to his honourable resignation. Formerly leader of the Greens, he contacted Gardai about an ongoing investigation regarding one of his constituents. It may not have been right but you could see where his loyalties lay,in those of his constituents which seems to be rare these days.

Cervical cancer vaccine, child deaths in the HSE not being investigated and 58,000 X-rays being left unchecked resulting in a death and numerous undiagnosed patients. These are just a few of the many revelations that have come to light in recent times about our health service. The woman responsible for overseeing these matters and safeguarding their implementation is none other than our very own Mary Harney. The most recent case to come to the nations attention was the Tallaght hospital X-ray scandal. The utter neglect of this matter is inexcusable yet Ms. Harney is not shouldering the blame. When news broke of the national scandal she was away on a "fact finding" mission in New Zealand and did not feel the urge to come home and manage the crisis. Her head should be on a platter.

The ongoing seemingly never ending church scandals are continuing to unearth fresh wounds with the news that Cardinal Brady one of the most senior bishops in this country was involved in a cover up back in the 1970's involving a priest and his penchant for children. It came to light some of these children were forced to keep quiet upon threat of ex-communication which was a very serious matter in those days. Cardinal Brady then quite blatantly explained he did not feel it was his responsibility to report this matter to the Gardai. He believes resignation on his behalf is not a matter warranting contemplation or discussion.

There is something rotten at the core of this country and its authoritative figures.

Banjos, raspy voices & poetry

Thursday night saw me enjoying the fine wordsmiths and musicians that are Mumford and Sons at The Academy. The four piece outfit from London have burst onto the scene in Ireland in particular over the last six months cementing a reputation as men of poetic lyrics combined with bluegrass/folk music priming you for a hoedown and a nice relaxing listen all at the same time. Debuting this year with their seminal album Sigh No More they have opened up a generation to a whole new genre of music and diverted tired eyes and ears away from the cumbersome indie scene of late that is becoming saturated with carbon copies and lacking in immediate imagination.

That is not to say that Mumford and Sons themselves may be guilty of recreating their own sound over and over again on their own debut album. However I think they may be excused because of their existential lyrics that ring through like a young poet seeing the world with fresh eyes.Or just check out CSNY. You may be forgiven for thinking you have heard the same notes twice on different tracks but you wont mistake the lyrics. Songs like The Cave, Roll Away Your Stone, White Blank Page and Winter Winds are stand out tracks. What amazed me at the gig was the sheer talent of every single member of the band. They chopped and changed at ease from drums to piano to bass to lead vocals and every single member carried out their task with aplomb. Marcus Mumford's (the lead vocalist) voice is unmistakeable and leaves an indelible mark on the mind. Whoever has heard this man singing will recognise his voice immediately.

They have supported the songstress Laura Marling but have toured extensively over the last two years in England in particular and forged a reputation as live force to be reckoned with. With their melancholic voices and love of folk and bluegrass they seemed to have identified and a hit a chord with people on this side of the ocean. They have managed to sell more albums here than anywhere else. Perhaps it is the inherent love of folk and storytelling that appeals to the people of this island. With Marcus Mumford explaining Little Lion Man and White Blank Page to be a part of an ongoing story line, I have no doubt they will continue onto bigger and better things and will always have a place in the hearts of people who love a story in song.

Mumford and Sons with their pianoes, double bass', guitars and banjoes are Marcus Mumford, Country Winston, Ben Lovett and Ted Dwane.

What do you think?

Peoples faith moves them to evoke all manner of emotions. Today, I was directed to a YouTube link(thanks Lib!) that entailed a thoelogical debate of sorts. This debate firstly was about the effect the Catholic church has on the world and whether it is for good or for worse. Arguing in favour was the Archbishop of Nigeria, John Onaiyekan and British MP and Conservative Ann Widdecombe. In the opposing corner were controversial journalist and commentator Christopher Hitchens and acclaimed author,comedian,actor and jack of all trades Stephen Fry.

Brought up in a Catholic household in suburban Ireland and educated in a Catholic school both primary and secondary I was subjected to the teachings of the Catholic church throughout my youth. Like a lamb in a menagerie I grew into a sheep and stayed with the flock until my late teens wherein I strayed from my mandatory faith and embraced what the world had to offer and its surroundings. This, needless to say, caused consternation in my household but to this day I hold firm in my beliefs. My parents, fantastic in every aspect of life as they are, even to this day I believe still long for my return to my faith. This is however not their fault. I would subscribe to the theory that they are a product of the environments they grew up in,the Bible bashing society that existed in pre Celtic Tiger Ireland. Dont get me wrong I would never question their commitment to their faith and theyre entitled to their beliefs but it's just not my cup of tea. I am probably a believer in the world religions and perhaps could be described as an "a la carte" believer. I think almost every religion has some valid points and I see no reason why I cannot subscribe to a theory from whichever religion I choose. A deity and one true deity,I do believe in. But I would like to think this deity does not belong to a religion but to people in general.

Anyway, my eyes were opened to the vast bowlful of knowledge waiting for us when I started studying Jurisprudence and listened to messrs. Rousseau, More, Foucault, Marx, Chomsky etc.... I learned about the Summarian Gods and how they rose from the dead after three days(sound familiar anybody?) and how the Nicene Creed shaped the Christian etiquette and festivals we know today,deriving from Pagan festivals. I began to question my faith and impending scandals at the time sealed my fate. The sex abuse scandals in the Catholic church broke. My ears burned as the facts were revealed.In a nutshell,priests raping children. These guardians of faith and of the community had betrayed their followers and they and the powers that be had the gall to cover up these appalling acts. At this time I do not categorise all priests in the same boat, I am on friendly terms with priests and more genuine,nicer people you could not meet.However, those responsible for these horrific acts had to be made accountable, which some since have but it is a slow process. I had lost my faith. To add to this the churches stance on condoms, to which they vehemently oppose the use of, has surely contributed to countless problems in Africa and farther reaching areas with regard to venereal diseases, their patriarchal and chauvinistic attitude towards women who are surely more sacred than men seeing as they alone are enamoured with the ability to give life, their stance on marriage towards clergy members and celibacy which surely is not natural and so on. I just cant subscribe to this club any more. In my opinion they have used fear as a crutch to stand on and beat people with over the centuries gathering believers over time to create the biggest but perhaps most disillusioned and betrayed fan club of all time. As Stephen Fry quite elegantly and aptly put it, what would Jesus, a very enlightened and clearly admirable individual think of the church today and the abomination it has become. The power corrupting power.

Which leads me to the debate. Both sides argue their theories with composure and self assured belief but the fascinating manner in which Mr. Fry delivers his argument is compelling and fascinating to watch. If you wish to listen and watch just follow the link below and the rest will follow.

January

Seeing as it's not the end of January I am still allowed to say Happy New Year and I hope it's a prosperous one for all.

It's been a topsy turvy month with a few swings and round about's thrown in but it's coming to an end now and everything that is most important in my life is still there and intact and looking good. The new year started with a trip to the border town/metropolis that is Dundalk to ring in the New Year with my better half,Libby. Drunken thrills and spills were had and a good night resulted in a bad hangover the next day as is customary. The big freeze ensued upon the country then, which turned out to be a mini farce of sorts. The good citizens of this country embarked on a course of chaos,including myself believing there was every possibility I may not be able to make a long distance journey ever again because we were entering a new ice age and we had no salt!!! Noel Dempsey,our Minister for Transport,would be okay however because he was in sunnier climates. This was foresight at its best on his part as he would be able function better and sort out the chaos from another country as he was abroad and therefore more mobile,rather than being stuck in an ice palace in his house in Ice Age Ireland as it was now known!!!Schools closed,businesses ceased operations,roads became ice rinks,lakes disappeared,we were entering an new dawn in Ireland where you could go nowehere and do nothing. Everything was changing except for one minor detail,our existing Government were still existing.I am beginning to think that perhaps God was giving us a chance to start afresh and we did not embrace this chance. Then the thaw came. As quick as that. Back to normality.

We also learned of Brian Lenihans battle with pancreatic cancer which created its own furore. All I will say is he should be left alone to fight his own battles and I wish him all the best and hope he defeats this disease but also the public are entitled to know that such a political figurehead is in ill health and may not be able to perform to full capacity. As for the man himself perhaps he should step down and fight this in private and let somebody else take up the mantle on such a high pressured job. All the best though.

Recently through my studies and coincidental programming I have become acutely aware of the situation in the Middle East between Israel and Palestine. It seems that the problem that faces these proud tribes is so deep and complicated at this stage it would be very hard to ever see a solution or compromise. There are different factions,ideas,ideals,minds have been polluted to the extent that these peoples goals now seem distorted.They both believe they have divine rights to the lands they are fighting over.The dying and violence and human suffering is insurmountable and both sides are suffering. However in two recent programs it became apparent to me that it is the Palestinians that seem to be suffering the most. Jon Snows "Unseen Gaza" and Ross Kemps documentary highlighted several problems facing the Palestinians in every aspect of their life. It is rare to have cameras and available footage from Gaza and its surrounding areas which Jon Snow sought to highlight in his program. The lack of knowledge about these areas is astounding and it is mainly due to Israeli authorities preventing entry to the territories. 


There are blockades in place that have ruined any sort of an economy that was in place and unemployment is high. This has led to illegal smuggling rearing its ugly head. There are tunnels in place with the borders of Egypt and other surrounding places to smuggle in vital supplies that the Israelis are preventing. These tunnels are death traps and deaths are regular. Surely this is inhumane. The funny thing is the Palestinian government are regulating this as it is a very important facet of their economy. However as a result there are exorbitant prices on these products and its a vicious merry go round that only adds to these peoples problems. Meanwhile on the other side of the wall,life seems to be as normal as it is in Ireland.

Where you see billboards in Ireland advertising perfumes, energy drinks, celebrities etc...in Palestine instead you see "martyrs", heroes adorned across the walls looking down on the rubble filled streets. You see men who for some reason or another believed that to become a suicide bomber they would somehow make a difference.The children in Palestine now gaze up at these effigies while they are playing cops and robbers or something worse with their replica machine guns and idolise these people. This is only going to lead to a whole new generation of suicide bombers and a continuation of death, human suffering, hell on earth. 


There is a poignant scene in Ross Kemps documentary in an orphanage. Children,who have lost family due to Israeli shells or attacks have been orphaned. Ross Kemp quizzes these children on their feelings about the conflict and their hatred is apparent,unfettered and concentrated. People this age should not have a care in the world and even know what hatred is. They are describing horrific ordeals as a result of this terrible war, when a small girl,silent for the duration of the scene,interjects and begins to describe the suffering she has endured. She could not be more than 7 years of age. She describes witnessing her family being slaughtered by Israeli "soldiers",her mother being raped and seeing her fathers brains spilling out of his head. Shocking imagery,described by a girl who has not even seen a decade pass in her life. This is not normal. She then describes it all in one phrase, she feels like she is stuck in a cage and there's no way out. She hates that country and its servants that took her family from her,such hatred so young,tragic. This madness will only breed madness. 


The programme finished with a young man preparing himself to be a suicide bomber,just like hundreds before him. This man believes he will make a difference by taking his own life and the lives of countless innocents. The difference is this man is a student of the law,he could make a difference in his way of life,by fighting in the courts or in politics but he is blinded by the madness of a war, ready to take precious life when he could save so many.

My heart goes out to the people of Haiti,may they find light at the end of the tunnel.

January out!

Playing for change

Hello! I am going to have to start updating this more regularly although I think i'm pretty much talking to myself at this stage.

At the moment I am surfing the net and my darling, beautiful girlfriend just pointed me in the direction of a fantastical piece of ingenuity on the part of a group that are trying to make a change through the medium of music. They are called Playing for Change. The idea is to promote unity throughout the world through the medium of music. Some of the compilations are fantastic with celebrated artists such as Bono and Manu Chao appearing among others. Most of these people appearing in the videos have never even met yet have managed to create beautiful, moving pieces of music. The stand out one for me is the version of Stand By Me (watch out for Grandpa Eliot). The message they create is positive and the idea can bring a smile to your face, check it out it's worth it!

http://gizmodo.com/5231112/best-video-ive-seen-today-will-make-you-smile?autoplay=true

http://www.playingforchange.com/journey/introduction

The Sunday Telegraph Intern

Dear Readers,

I know you have been fretting and at a loss as to where I have been for the last while but fear not I have returned and in my unfettered absence I have been a vacuum, absorbing information, anecdotes, facts, knowledge to bestow upon the world and amaze and astound you the reader. So sit back and be amazed, cajoled and dumbfounded as you take in the opinion of a man on the verge of greatness...

Well to let you into my world (for a change) it's been an eventful and uneventful last few months. I suppose the best place to start with these things is the start. As some of you may already be aware I have plans to be a big shot journalist (i'll prove you all wrong wait until you see), so with the help of a dear friend I packed my bags and set sail across the ocean to the maze of wonders that is London, where upon that dear friend had helped me gain a period of work experience with the Sunday Telegraph. After settling into to my accommodation on Old Street and a good nights rest I began my travails into the heady heights of international journalism.

Week 1

Day 1


Not too sure what to expect, I arrived at the offices and was greeted upon arrival by the lovely, kind and jovial Emma (who would turn out to be my go to if I was lost for my duration at the Telegraph, thank you Emma) and after a brief tour of the ultra modern centre that is the Telegraph offices I was assigned to my desk and quickly given a task: I was expected to find every Freedom of Information email address for every local council in England. Eeuuughhhh! I expected menial tasks like making tea perhaps, or being a gofor but this was quite possibly worse. How and ever, I put the head down and kept quiet, sticking steadfastly and passionately to my pursuit of these ever evasive addresses that only a top notch journalist like myself would only be able to unfurl and track down! You have to start somewhere,why not at the bottom. I was in the door at least.

Day 2


After familiarising myself with the tube route to Victoria, base camp for my foray into the world of journalism, I settled into day 2. A good half an hour early, I decided to do a bit of snooping around myself. It turned out that journalists don't seem to rise too early, I was in the minority with my presence and let me tell you this didn't exactly put me off being a journalist but probably endeared me that bit more. Organising myself at my desk the troops began to arrive. After largely being ignored the previous day, through no fault of their own, I began to generate a bit of interest with many of my "colleagues" as they began to wonder why this strange, moustachioed (it was not a fashion statement or experiment,I grew handlebars for charity, it certainly raised a few eyebrows) Irish man was sitting in their presence! I continued to dedicate all my energy and fervour into finding every address I could for the most part of the day and still I wasn't asked to make any tea or deliver anything. I began to feel a part of something big! 


As the afternoon was drawing to a close and dusk was descending upon our incumbent souls I was approached by Ben Leapman, the deputy chief editor and a kind, intelligent unassuming man, to help the reporter that had been sitting behind me. Ben Leach. Finally a promotion, if you will indulge me. My task was to ring every Police Force in Britain and under the Freedom of Information Act obtain the figures for the amount of crimes that were "screened out"(that is crimes that were reported, minor crimes as such, but never investigated) for the previous year. Now upon review, I looked at this task as something of a challenge. It was a bit like the stripey Zebra being chased by the ravenous Lion or Tiger and deciding he'd had enough and turning around and politely saying to Mr. Lion or Tiger "lookey here Sir but I have had enough, fuck you, i'm going to chase you now". Arduous task. Once again better than making tea, in fact at this stage people were asking me would I like a cup of tea whilst they did the coffee run. I belonged.

Day 3 and 4


The next two days consisted of making the phone an extension of my ear/face. I was ringing one Police Force who would be uncooperative and then waiting for their reply, while ringing others who would be uncooperative, while receiving the aforementioned replies and so on and so forth. Merry go rounds would not have had a patch on proceedings at the Telegraph desk of John Fagan over those couple of days. Figures eventually started flooding in and by Friday evening around 7 or so we had enough statistics to run with a story for Sunday's paper. And a published article for the little moustachioed Paddy from Navan in the Telegraph,quite unexpected!

Day 5 


The most interesting day of them all was the final day of the week. Although I had nothing of note to partake in on this particular day as I had already put in the ground work, I just sat back and took proceedings in. People scurrying to and fro. First draft, second draft, "Is this ok", "will we run with this headline or this headline", "cut that out", "what do you think John" (got you there, John happens to be quite a common name, it wasn't me). To just sit back and watch the hustle and bustle of headline day in a big paper was simply poetry in motion. You could have written a musical piece to the to and fro of everybody. First week done and dusted, article under my belt, smile on my face, time to embrace the social side of London with my partners in crime Doni and Abi! And two better partners to plunder the social treasures of London I could not have asked for!

Week 2

After enduring the social heights of London and coming out the other side, a little worse for wear mind you, week 2 began. Same desk, same menial task again. This time I didn't seem to have the same enthusiasm as I did the week previous in my pursuit of FOI addresses but nonetheless I persisted. This occupied me for the best part of 3 days but upon completion I was in danger of being dropped from the team. I was fading into the background. 


That Thursday evening, Robert Mendick, an investigative reporter,called upon my services. Investigating being the nature of his job he needed implements to assist him in his trickery and deception. To go undercover, one must become someone else whether it be disguise or another identity it would never be wise to use your own identity! So,with this in mind, I was sent out the next day to scour the streets of London for a spy camera. Following directions I ended up in a murky loft apartment somewhere along the banks of the river Thames and after completing a few circles lo and behold they had a spy camera, among several other gadgets. Unfortunately, even as the young man that I am, I have a propensity to be of the non-technological variety so nothing looked familiar. I may as well have been on the deck of a star trooper spaceship for all I knew. With that in hand I made my way back to Victoria, my lair for the week, and handed the merchandise over to Mr. Mendick, who wanted the camera to spy on some bogus Scandinavian doctor. I never did figure out whether that was a success or not.

How and ever, to buck the trend of a quite week, Ben Leach, the reporter I worked in conjunction with the previous week, approached me with an interesting task. Admittedly when I was asked first to do this job I was a bit taken a back, intrigued and apprehensive at the same time. The job was to arrange a meet with a man who dealt in mephodrone and to buy a 5 gram quantity off him, a legal high of sorts. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach when asked to do this but it was exciting and just what I had been looking for and what most students on work experience would kill for. This drug was a product of the legal high trade in the UK but was highly dangerous and had been at the centre of a recent controversy in which a young girl died directly as a consequence of consuming this drug. A "designer drug" which was advertised as plant growth but was sold for human consumption which was highly illegal. Anyway, I arranged to meet this man at a tube station in West London the following morning where I would buy the drug whilst a photographer would be hiding in the bushes and a reporter waiting in the wings to confront the dealer once the transaction had been completed. 


I arrived at the station,everybody got into position and I called my "dealer" to come meet me. I waited for what seemed an eternity but it could not have been more than five minutes when he arrived. Everything went off without a hitch and we ended up getting more than we bargained for,with the rather dimwitted dealer granting us a forty minute interview in which he revealed everything about his operation and the twenty five grand he was making a week and how he was just out of prison for dealing class A. I don't think I will ever encounter such luck again. 


All in all a fantastic experience and I would love to make a home of London at some stage in my life, for a while at least. I also hope this will not be the last of my journalistic experiences in that capacity. Fingers crossed! Thanks to all at the Sunday Telegraph for their hospitality, guidance, help and patience in particular Jasper, the two Ben's, Leapman and Leach, James Hall, Aleeda and in particular Emma and my dear friend and most importantly, Abi, for everything!


Links to my published articles below:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/politics/lawandorder/6623745/Police-fail-to-investigate-one-third-of-crimes.html

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/6679644/Meow-meow-Whats-to-stop-us-selling-legal-highs.html

Is this breaking point for the land of Saints and Scholars?

It looks like our defiant motherland, the nation we all love dearly and hold close to our hearts, after thousands of years of spitting back in the face of adversity, after defying occupancy and flippantly ignoring natural and man made disasters, after giving us an enormous sense of pride and well being with her lush green mane spreading right across the land giving us our very own identity, after producing the most wondrous scholars, loved and hated by man, woman and child in their humble abodes worldwide, after inspiring countless souls and instilling awe in our emotions with her many majestic sights and views, her resolve has eventually been shattered by our current woes (probably furthered by the hand of Thierry Henry!) and she is weeping inconsolably and uncontrollably. All you have to do is look at Grand Parade in the city of Cork. Tear drops are falling at her feet. Her heart is broken!