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I'm going to use this page to rant on about whatever the hell pops into my mind, shakes it up, confuses it, or enlightens it on any given day. Its going to be random arnd hopefully thought provoking. I haven't got the discipline to keep a journal, but just don't want to keep adding on bits and pieces to the other main topics!, This pags is certainly becoming more autobiographical. Where once I was afraid of offendin or embarrassing others, now I really don't give a monkey', and realise that you can't keep everyone happy all of the time!

Sunday 29/08/10

Nearly finished the Christopher Hitchens book. A lot of it is very tough reading, appealing only to the very well read. What I liked are the personal insights and anecdotes that he offers. It was the reason I joined the library, but I think once I finish it I wont be attempting another such book for quite some time. In direct contradiction to the religious views of Christopher Hitchens. I have started a book on Doris Stokes, the famed English medium. You can't dismiss it all as clap trap, but I remember going to one medium in Kildare, who was very proud of her accomplishments yet couldn't answer my simple question of what these spirits do all day ( apart from moving furniture and generally making a nuisance of themselves). I think I would have to agree with Christopher Hitchens when he says that any conception of a non stop party in the after life, palls when you consider that its never going to end. Even if there was a loved one you'd really love to meet, would you not got tired of each others company after a few thousand years, which in the face of eternity is nothing. There is a huge market for the paranormal, my fear is that the gullable and desperate would be taken advantage of. These mediums and apparitions never really come up with any practical useful stuff, no fore warning of tsunami's or natural disasters, so I think I'd have to err on the sceptical side !

Monday 23/8/10

Journey cut short,

Options and choices exhausted,

Spluttered and carried to the halfway line,

Always managed to evade,

The noose of dependency and idle days,

Gap between us and them was forever shortening,

Now bearing the imprinted sneering marks,

Of time caught up,

Twice a child, never really an adult,

Stargate, infinity, divine origin,

Liberating shock of omnipresence,

What comfort?,

Thoughtful words for thoughtless people,

Too much of it is more fearful than too little,

Time is wrongly distributed.

Wednsday 18/8/10: Went to the dinosaur exhibition on monday at the Ambassador. How anyone can believe in creationism or to think that anything of importance happened a few thousand years ago is just beyond me, and absolutely tramples on logic. To think of the earth teeming with these huge creatures 250 million years ago, says to me that there is a vast period that we know absolutely nothing about, and we use jesus and his like to try and fill in the gap. Am reading "Hitch 22" and "Surprised by Joy" by michael meegan. I hate the word "charity", and all that it implies. Socially just would be a far better descriptive. It should never be considered acceptable that people lead harrowing lives, ending them being ravaged by intestinal worms and thirst etc. I know a lot of the clinics are run by religious, but surey church beliefs play a large part in contributing to this sadly vicious circle. Look at all the millions in donations that mother teresa' order gets, and yet the concentration style layout of her houses in calcutta never changed. I realise there are completely opposing ideologies at work, and therein lies the gaping problem.

Tuesday 10/8/10: Glad you're not suffering anymore Stuart Mangan!

I saw most of the documentary about the young irish guy in london, who became paralysed from the neck down, following a rugby accident. It just backs up what I fervently believe: that people should be more concerned with "livng" too long, rather than dying too young. What an accomplished guy he was, and the proud owner of a six pack and looks to match, which would disintegrate into a keg and double chin soon after. I bow down at his feet! Only in the last few years, am I coming close to his level of existence, and it stinks...........in every way. The programme was quite slanted though. I could see the cult pictures over his bed, and his communion pic's. I think if he didn't have such good friend's and family, and monied access to 24 hour care in his own lovely apartment, he would have been singing a very different tune. I am going to london myself in september, and was resolving to meet up with him, when it said that ten days aftr the documentary wound up, that he got a fatal infection. How would his spirit's be after a couple of years of that dependant existence, or if his finances had dried up? Life is precious............but certainly not always!

Saw most

Monday 26/7/10: "Pro Life" indeed!

I was meant to be attending a pro choice demonstration in the WRC on Upper Dorset Street, but country bumpkin that I am, couldn't find them. Its an issue that I feel very strongly about. For me choices are central, and I have to question just what kind of life these "pro life" people are supposedly for.

I think its a huge misnommer. They should be more accurately described as anti choice people. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we lived in a world, where every child was going to be born into an expectant and loving family, but unfortunately this is not the case, and I can see the gnarled hands of the conservative cult members at work.

As a male, I will never remotely be in that precarious situation, but I know what its like in some small way not to have control over your body, and these same conservatives are blocking stem cell research. Lets have more focus on the actual living rather than the potential living.

I think their protest was successful. This WRC was allegedly masaquerading as a choice giving centre, but in reality they wanted to totally dissuade the women from having an abortion, and tried to brain wash them by giving out graphic imagaes and horror stories.

Another really galling thing, is that these same conservatives who try and force the women into going through with the pregnancy, then perpetuate a stigma and condescending attitude towards single mothers. To me , that's hyprocacy in action. I have asked them to keep me in mind for the next protest , and hopefully with the aid of google maps, I will be there. But it was nice to be in the city centre anyway. Chapters bookshop rules !

Tuesday 20/7/10: Saw that programme on apparitions yesterday. Why does it fulfill some people, if they can see jesus on a cloud? As for mary, she never seems to say anything relevant, no predictions of tsunami, or any other life saving tip off. These fools who stare at the spinning sun, obviously have way too much time on their hands, and should be calling into their lonely neighbours, or assisting someone struggle through the day in their nearest rehab centre, rather than bombing off to the other end of the country, to the scheduled appearance of a moving rock. More focus on this world, I say!

Don't get me started on burqha's! I think that british politician is totally right. What exactly is the difference between a burqha and a balaclava? Its depressing when the woman tries to justify her cage cloth, dumbly saying "its because our precious bodies are .for our husbands eyes only". Well, what if all the men around you are gay, or what if you're an ugly crone? A straight guy isn't going to lose his mind at the merest sight of your flesh, in fact they might be insisting that you cover up as much as possible!

My 1,000 word assignment essay for suzanne

Brothert Beck puffed out his chest with a contented heave. A respected elder, who could trace his lineage all the way back to the, personal physician of joseph smith no less, he had all the outward trappings of growth and success. Or at least that was the image he tried to convey. Inside he was no longer filled with the arrogant certainty of his beliefs. Some of the derisions made against the mormon prophet, sneers about the hill of Gomorrah, magic protective underwear and bringing down spirit children, were beginning to create yearning cracks in his spiritual armour, that was when the door was opened for them of course.

He left his immaculately furbished detached suburban retreat, with his freshly ironed black tie, and neated partitioned hair, admiring the rose bushes which encircled his front lawn, emanating a dignified smell, which accompanied him to his gleaming Chrysler jeep. The crunch of gravel, and whirling sounds of feasting bees, were a delight to his senses, on this cloudless tantalising morning.

As he rolled out of his driveway, en route to a meeting with his chapter’s bishop, he passed his plump, neighbour, with the fixed smile, already out walking her impatient dog. He knew that for him, the clouds were gathering. Sam, his only son had shattered all their hearts by admitting that the restorative therapy, and all the fasting hikes in the golden, haunted canyons of Utah had not worked, and that he was still attracted to men.

He could not stomach what his religion decreed, that homosexuality was a learned chosen behaviour, possibly the result of a domineering mother, and absence of a suitably masculine influence. He knew, in the deepest recesses of his spirit, that this wàs patently untrue. Indeed, the walls of his house vibrated with the joyful memories of many of their camping trips, and baseball games.

He hugged the steering wheel, and the tired reflection which stared back at him, was a shocking display of genealogy gone wrong. The weighed down under eye bags of his mother, and restricted ample jowels of his father sneered back at him, reminding him how much he had let himself go in the last few months.

As he neared the imposing temple ,and adjoining bishop’s residence, a piece which he had seen on 20/20 returned to the forefront of his mind. Just why exactly was not a trace of a cross, to be found in a mormon temple? Surely such a basic symbol of compassion, was ominous in its absence.

The white washed temple stood imperiously amidst lush green sweeping lawns, which defied the surrounding landscape. Solemn faced security guards, faced off with a large number of whistle blowing protestors, with the eight foot tall security gates, which encircled the compound acting as an unwilling intermediary. From time to time, they were rattled by the crowd angry at the passing of proposition 8, whose opposition had largely been galvanised by his fellow brethren.

Their anger fuelled adrenaline was more than apparent, spewing out of mouths, and gushing through the arms, which raised pointed accusatory placards. He saw in each of these guys, a reflected image of his son, alongside the loneliness and derision which awaited him through the years, shadowing him constantly, only too eager to sabotage his life choices. Could it be, that sexuality was more genetic than learned? At what stage did someone "learn" to be attracted to someone of the opposite sex?

Was it possible that he could only be happy and fulfilled if he subjugated himself, and kow towed before the altar of joseph smith and his thirteen wives? "Adam & Eve NOT Steve" floated past his mind in giant lettering, like a well rehearsed retort. He realised then and there, that from his earliest years, he had been programmed in such a way, that deviations from the given, immutable blueprint of life and living, would never be tolerated. For all his life, he had been taught that there were two paths, but only one of which led to certifiable contentment, the mormon way or the highway.

He could not reconcile the notion of a loving heavenly father, and the son that was supposed to be made in his image and likeness. His present forty five year old mind, was in open rebellion, with his established indoctrinations. He was keenly aware that his wife and family were waiting on him to act, and provide some direction for them to follow behind. All answers lay within himself, he now could clearly see.

Moving silently through the demonstrators, he loosened his tie under the scrutiny of the midday sun. His ears burned with some of the things he heard. What was even more troubling to him, was that he found himself agreeing with them. The reality was that as it stood now, without legal protection ,a biological family which had rejected or shunned their gay son or daughter, and had had no contact with them since, would legally be considered next of kin, and would be afforded more legal credence, than the committed life partner, who just happened to have the same body parts.

A lot of car honking, conveyed the agreeable sentiments of others. How could they just be dismissed as hell bound apostates? The age and gender mixture of the crowd surprised him. Floral patterned suburbia mixed effortlessly with tanned well dressed twenty and thirtysomethings. Not an upside down crucifix, leather jockstrap or pierced nose in sight. He needed to devote some serious effort to expanding his mind, and the limitations he had put on it.

That would entail a serious leap on his part, from the safety of proscribed rights and wrongs, to the volatile and malleable waters of openness and acceptance. He looked down at his ticking watch, and nervously called the bishop’s office. "I’m afraid I have to cancel my two o’ clock meeting, and I have no desire toa reschedule". He was fully aware of all that lay before him. Time stood still.

Wednsday 7/6/10: Always have to force myself to go into the gym, and feel great when its over, but yesterday took the proverbial biscuit. A buff looking thirtysomething was parked in a disabled space. I think this is despicable. He has been pumping weights, and running a threadmill for the past hour, yet he refuses to park a bit further. The base side of me hopes the universe answers his indirect call, and down the line, and for whatever reason, he ends up needing a disabled space (which he can't get because some other lazy cunt is hogging it) Finger is healing and knitting together finally. Did my shoulder in and couldn't go to the gym for a week. That'll teach me to lift too much weight. Better to do less weight and more reps.

I am flabbergasted by my friends talent. These pictures are his originals. And to think he works as a panel beater! There is something very picasso esqe about the first. He is south african, which explains the second. Would love to have a fraction of your talent Luis!|

Just listening to the saga over the brother's of charity, being forced (supposedly) to cut back on respite hours, because of the cuts by the HSE. Why is noone marching to these brothers doors, and asking just how they can plead poverty, when they are part of one of the wealthiest organizations on the planet. Terrible to see all the heroic human dogs, having their little bit of dignity shattered, with news of their double incontinency being blasted out on TV3. Desperate measures no doubt!

 

Monday 28/6/10: Its a dog's life!

My four legged friend got very sick over the last couple of days. Piles of diarrhoea and personality changes(not interested in chasing the cats around) indicated that something serious was wrong. As much as I adore this dog, and he has been responsible for a lot of good memories, i couldn't help but feel how dogs are treated much better than humans. The internet led us to suspect that bowel cancer could be the culprit. So the reality is for any pet, with any sort of caring owner, long illness would never be on the cards. Why is there more humane options permitted for dogs than for humans?. Humans are expected to go through whatever pain or bleakness, totally stripped of choice, because of the belief that they somehow have a divine destiny. This is absolutely barbaric, and I will never stop saying so, and fighting for change. By the way the dog is totally back to his old self now.

Saturday 26/6/10: Pride!

Fulfilled a long overlooked ambition, and went to applaud those taking part in Dublin Pride. The energy was palpable, and it is way overdue for the religious fascists to be put in their place. Love is love whether its between two men or two women! There are very few asexuals around (if any), and from my perspective, I say if your body works,squeeze as much pleasure out of it as you can! There are still too many homophobia related suicides, and inequalities to be complacent about. There is still a huge, religion inspired, fear of sexuality, as if the only way to get through the magical pearly gates, is with an unused sac, or having led a deceptive life. Diversity rules, and anyone who disagrees should be impaled on a two foot long dildo! What's so good about celibacy anyway? If there's such a thing as reincarnation, I'm coming back as a male prostitute!

Wednsday 16\6\10: One finger down!

Captured time:

 

No its not a crazy dance,

Wish it were a confident prance,

Tripped over dog leads, owners nostrils flare,

Save it hag, for somebody who cares.

Don’t need your pity or tragic stares,

Just some mushrooms and a pipe that glares,

The wisps of smoke launch into the air,

With a practice so common, and a disease so rare.

Racing to church they almost push you aside,

Unaware that their god is deep inside.

To be seen in the weak smouldering embers of spirit,

The minds that are fading, and the pelvis’ that pivot.

Issues dealt abstractedly by gents that are well clothed and fed,

Don’t mind me, I’ve just fallen out of bed.

I know a lot are bored and smelly,

Living lives lower than a snakes belly.

Where does it end, “this life be over soon”,

The nuts who say that deserve at least a verbal harpoon.

More effort and focus on this world, I say,

‘cause death is everlasting, and we only have today.

Sunday 13/6/10; Had a very interesting time on Friday. Went to the official opening of Newbridge Cheshire Home. The little talk I gave is printed below, and I hope soon to upload the video to here. I have to go into Naas Hospital tomorrow. I dropped a weight on my finger 3 weeks ago, and not being a hospital person, I avoided doing anything about it for as long as possible. But a week of restless nights and inability to grip brought me to the hospital.

After it was x-rayed they told me the tip of the finger is certainly fractured. I think I have been lucky not to have broken any bones before. They say a fracture is worse than a break and as the finger is not healing in the correct alignment and is still sore to the touch, I better do something about it . (Update: Turns out, after a morning of waiting, that I badly fractured my little finger: guess I won’t be using the medicine ball again any time soon). Here is a little clip of me on Friday, with the full text printed below. My voice remained okay, but my eyeballs were shaking so much, I could barely focus on the text, and was just thankful that I had almost memorized it in advance!

" For me, and I know many others, Cheshire newbridge is a veritable nugget in the often very bleak and monotonous, world of caring. I first used this facility in February of 2008, when my mother got very ill and as there are only the two of us at home, we had a real dilemma on our hands. So it was either, be helped out at home sporadically by well intentioned friends and family, enter residential care (kicking & screaming) or avail of this new "Cheshire Home" in new bridge. The very idea of a "home" flooded my mind with pictures of a dark serious institutionalized place with supper at 7, and then bedtime at 8 (following prayers to Yahweh perhaps). Very thankfully the experience did not live up to that Dickensian image.

Quickly I came to be grateful for the progressive, and client centred approach by jarlath, and the rest of the staff here. Whether it’s a lively chat at the kitchen table, or doing your own thing in your own apartment sized room, you call the shots here, rather than feeling like a prisoner in a boot camp.

For myself ( and many others I’m sure) this place is a refuge and source of lively diversion, from the repetitive and wallpaper scrutinizing days , which some disabilities certainly can bring. Even as a source of combating or alleviating loneliness, it comes up trumps. This place does not seem to facilitate silence or introversion very well.

There are close to 161,000 carer’s in Ireland, silently toiling away, often under conditions which no paid worker would tolerate, saving the state a fortune in the process. This is a love fuelled vocation, a desire not to have to place your loved one in one of the older model homes, seeing them intermittently, alongside all the upheaval involved in taking a fish out of water. Their everyday quiet unsung deeds, are true examples of the power of love in action, but even the sturdiest of wells can run dry, which is why a place like this is such a lifeline.

Personally, I find it appalling that in the year 2010, we still live under a stained statute book, that robs people of life choices, and confuses living with existing. Hopefully, this blinkered viewpoint, which we all now have no choice but to accept, will give way to a more enlightened compassionate view, but Cheshire newbridge is certainly in the business of enhancing numerous people’s quality of living, and long may it continue to do!"

(The flash video cuts out as I am only on the trial software. Now that I know it works, I might buy it Having video adds a better dimension to the site methinks).

Tuesday 1/6/10 : Good news at the gym.

Through a lot of trial and error, some of the exercises I’ve been doing for my forearm and wrist (thanks to a tip from one of the instructors in naas) has been paying delicious dividends of late. Pushing and transfers are easier, and even my handwriting, which I had given up on dejectedly, has made a welcome resurgence.

Dependancy, in any form is terrible, but when you have difficulty even signing your own name, or deciphering your own scrawl, it opens up a labyrinth of inferred prognosis, and self confidence demolishing internal dialogue.

I truly marvel at people who have are in an even worse physical state. Well, unfortunately, we are the choiceless ( and often voiceless) captives of a cult shaped statute book, so you should be supposedly contented with your dog tricks. I never thought I would be very excited at thirty five years of age, to be able to write with joined up handwriting again.

Still dying to get away, but the pròspects are few and costly. Doing a writing course, all thanks to the internet. Reading Rupert Everett’s brilliantly written autobiography, washed down with "Triumph of Hope", which is a holocaust memoir, and a look at how far we can sink and soar as humans.

Someone annoyingly asked me if I was a "fighter". I certainly haven’t given up, but the reality is that there is a vast surplus of able efficient people, with cars at the ready, with nice strong cores, who do not have to be strapped into a wheelchair, for fear of falling out. Compared to them, I suffer no delusions about my unemployability. Yes, the mind is still strong, and open to any well paying net based job!

Thursday 20/5/10

Since last October, I have wanted to write more candidly on this site. I love the power of words in general. How well constructed sentences can convey so much, and touch or inspire others. I don’t see the point in censoring your writing for fear of offending someone else. Candid writing from the heart, is often overwhelmed and subjugated by fear, fear of offending others especially.

Honesty is often fear’s first victim. Truth is, I am absolutely terrified of exposing myself. I am signing up to the writer’s village online courses, as the old brain cells are starting to stagnate and atrophy. I have all the time in the world now, yet still not enough, crazy as that sounds.

On a shallower note, have managed to get tickets for lady gaga and cirque de soleil. Went to see two plays in temple bar last Saturday under dublin gay festival. One was good,I'll tell it tomorrow,a one man dutch show,but the other one (woodies)b went completely over my head. Now that uci tallaght is gone, I need some other diversion.

Here is a poem by Maya Angelou, called "Still I Rise"

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders hanging down like raindrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don’t you take it awful hard,

‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got goldmines

Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it take you by surprise,

That I dance like I’ve got diamonds,

At the meeting of my thighs.

Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise,

Up from a past that’s rooted in shame

I rise,

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

Thursday 13/5/10: Maybe its just as well that I haven't a holiday booked, as I think I'd have a breakdown if I lost money due to the volcanic ash. You probably wouldn't be able to proprly enjoy your hol if you had the thought of being stranded hovering. Should have my new laptop back soon, thankfully!

Imagined fantasy, enforced realities,

Life giving virgins, anathema,

Desert itinerants to revered leaders,

Changing tide must be allowed unfettered,

A better world is calling,

From my god to yours.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

All encompassing, ever present,

Life viewed and shaped through FA,

Supported, guarded, chaperoned, worse to come,

Sexless, lifeless,

Balancing internal and external masks,

Very often one not fitting the other,

Wet grass, bare feet, toe heel,

Forced into a world not of my making or choosing,

Bedroom, studied wallpaper, empty roads, saviour sky,

Attempted normality, haughty arrogance,

Fruitless courses, meaningless letters,

Tortuous tomorrow’s that keep on coming,

Ungrateful am I? To whom exactly?

Human spirit is to be marvelled at,

Down but never out.

---------------------------------------------------

Monday 10/5/10: " Simon, you're going to be arrested",the well heeled woman shrieked as her obnoxious partner was forcibly ejected from the show. He had obviously spent the entire intermission at the bar, and was just spoiling for a fight, by the time the curtains raised on part two. From the get go, he started a commentary on everything, and any rebuffs were met by "sshhh yourself". When the gaiety staff intervened, they were met with an agitated "get your hands off me, get your fucking hands off me, show me your identification". Then the intercom announced " ladies and gentlemen, due to a disruption in the audience, the play will be stopped".

The cast were brought offstage, but to the gaiety' credit, the man ( whose clipped D4 voice, betrayed no signs of being seriously sloshed) was ejected, accompanied by the applause of a few, and the (no doubt) relief of many. The main show was of course great, with seamless sets which brought the story to life. We managed to get the wheelchair parking space outside stephan's green, which was very handy. Traffic was great, and we were back in bumpkinland by half eleven.

Friday (just 12.07am): O2 is so slow compared to 3. Its like the bad ol' days of dial up, when you might as well do as many other things, as you can think of, in order to simply put in the time. Lets just say its a half hour video, and even though I am in my uncomfortable second hour of downloading, I have only managed to download 10% of it. Maybe its a good "job" that I am unemployable, so there are no early morning committments.

Saw some of the O2 ability awards, and it provoked a few contentious buttons. An occupational therapist really broke the camals back for me, innocently delivering her no doubt, well rehearsed speel, about how I could use a shower chair. Bear in mind, I now have pathetic core muscles, and the possibility of coming onto cold tiles face force, and torpedo like, is a distinct possibility.

Disability is a HUGE umbrella term. I have no idea what its like to be deaf, amputee, paralysed (getting there though) or intellectually disabled (although I do give that impression with my poor speech and uncoordinated movements). When you see someone in a wheelchair, the question which should come to your mind, is just why they are in that damned mobile throne!

Looking at the botched uk elections, and this was meant to be the high definition election. Pity that technology didn't transfer to the actual voting collections. If anyone knows any personal assistant groups here or in the uk, please let me know!

 

One day in late april’’87 ; I just spent the last seven excruciating weeks at home. The day was loosely scheduled around the gerry ryan show (morning radio programme), this kip is a no phone zone, so I haven’t seen or heard from anyone since that time. Too embarrassed to be seen staggering around like a drunken fool. But forget about that detail, the danger even of zig zagging across a busy road has proven too much. So, I rallied (or snapped depending on how you look at it) today, decided that my walkng wasn’t so bad.

Am practicing a new way of walking: lift right foot and come down with the heel, but keep left foot as flat and unmoving as possible. As bizarre as it sounds, it appears to be working, or maybe its all just psychosomatic, and I sure as hell know how powerful that connection can be. I have thankfully spent half of those weeks, conked out in bed, and sweating profusely.

When I stagger in, relieved to be away from the monotony of home, things are noticeably different. New friendships have been forged, and even seating arrangements have changed. Paddy F****e is in my long held seat, and they wear a look of inconvenience as they shuffle back to their previous lineup.

At break, I’m talking to Tara E*****t, and she tells me that recently, they had elections for prefects for next year, and that both she and Imelda L**b voted for me. I could cry! It is one of the nicest things I have ever heard.

The pace is too quick here, as the bell sounds and I watch everyone disappear in different directions, confidently with their piled up books or groaning bags. My legs are letting me down again. Perhaps I should have listened to mother’s warning that I had just spent the last two weeks in bed, and I wouldn’t be able for it. The corridors are eerily empty now. Reverberating silence is the very last thing I expected from today, and I am distinctly unprepared for it.

I certainly can’t stagger into class now, late, and with all scrutinizing eyes totally focused on the latecomer. So I head around the square shaped building, until I pull myself up onto a desk, forgetting that it was near the principal’s office, and attempting to mentally gauge when the class will be over, and noisy life will return. Eyes studying the ground, mind busily hovering. This day had not lived up to expectations at all.

"Eric, I think we need to talk" said Sister Joan, standing before me in the corridor. It surely wasn’t just the words, or the tone with which they were conveyed, but they did the job of opening this tidal wave of emotion. I followed her into her very modern, and organised to perfection office, knocking off her pen holder in the process. This Cambridge educated head nun, with the icy reputation was at an uncomfortable loss, at the sight of this shaking, red faced pre pubescent in her midst.

She said that she would reorganise the class timetable, so instead of trekking to individual homerooms, that the scenario would be reversed, and that the teachers would come to me, "I wish I’d been born paralysed" I angrily blubbed, thinking that you never miss what you never had, and that surely it was infinitely better than watching your abilities slowly float down the tubes.

"No, at least you’ve had the feeling of sand between your feet. We never get what we want". As she moved from behind her desk, to the comforting reassurance of taking a seat beside me, she calmly went on telling me of her aunt and personal stories, which I deeply appreciated, and dispelled a lot of the stories I had heard about her. I’d never met or spoken to her before. She had taken sabbatical to chile in my first year, but her reputation had definitely preceeded her, even though I was not seeing any of the much trumpeted negatives.

The reorganizing of the timetable did work for a time, my classmates being especially happy at the convenience of it all, with no blatant attempts (at least not within my earshot), to discover just what had prompted this energy saving turn of events As it happened, by this stage we were nearing the end of the school year, and the start of yet another monotonous and painfully long summer break dangled gloomily overhead.

That summer marked even more physical decline, ruling walking out of the question. I could no longer put off finally giving in to the permanence of a wheelchair, and it was not until an intervention by a teacher (who had himself polio) and some friends, that I went back. I didn’t wheel back to secondary school until October of sixth year. It was both the last hurrah for our year, and a deciding year for our futures. Once the initial strain of curiosity wore off, I was back in the engaging fullness and thickness of student life. I often think of those classmates, even though they are now long scattered by life. I wonder did they appreciate just how emotionally intelligent they were, and how I benefited luckily from them.

Monday 3/5/10: Went to the city centre on saturday , with the intention of making it out to donnybrook, to sign the book of condolence for gerry ryan, but the weather conspired against us, and the prospect of sloshing around in a queue for hours, dissipated the genuine feeling I had, and so I beat a hasty retreat to liffey valley.

He's left irreplaceable shoes alright, but he probably fit more living into a week, than most of us do in a lifetime. The world keeps turning relentlessly on, but it stopped for a bit last friday.

The newer laptop is off for repair, and I am stuck with the older one, with the insanely neurotic mouse, which jumps all over the place. Thanks to the net, I found a setting which has calmed things down an awful lot, which is just as well, as I was getting close to throwing this jelopy out the window. The pc support people are way too quick, to diagnose the culprit as a virus, and to recommend you to restore everything to factory settings. I have everything backed up, but do not relish having to re-install every single program.

Weather is shit. I am reading a book on creative writing, and the author refers to the "sumptuous luxuries of solitude". Maybe in small doses, otherwise its a pain in the ass, literally! Going to the shawshank redemption play in the gaiety this saturday. Never been there before.

Sunday 24/04/10 : Ricky Gervais did live up to expectatiopns. With the new tunnel we flew up to the O2 in fifty minutes. The 02 is a great venue, almost impossible to have a bad seat. Even though it annoys me , no mattter how hungry I am, when i have to pay rip off prices for food and drink. You really have to wonder sometimes if there is sucevh a deep recession going on.

The 02 was jammed packed, with the average age being mid-twenties. I am not a die hard fan, and never got into The Office, but there is something very likeable about Ricky Gervais. I have more of a problem with his support act. His opening jokes seem to be directed at spastics etc. I do think that there are certain topics that are completely un touchable, and cannot be made funny, no matter how they are approached.

I do believe in the gentle power of humour, to diffuse a situation, by taking the micky out of something. Ricky seems to have a better grasp of the situation, so when he referred to Susan Boyle as a mong, you knew that it wasn't meant to be a sweeping insult to anyone with down's syndrome. But his supporting act was a different story altogether. Perhaps it was because those jokes he made were at the very beginning, and it completely soured me towards him, even though lots of his act was very witty.

Ricky was a great pains to tell us that because of the airline problems , he refused to cancel, and instead opted for a twelve thousand pounds helicopter ride. The show was called Science, and is certainly anticreationist. I think he is an intelligent guy, and his remarks about the No vote for proposition 8 in California, were very insightful. California is meant to be the mecca of liberalism, and to think that they want to oppose people, who want to be committed lifelong partners defies belief.

As he says, what they were basically saying was, if you want to have casual fun California has no problem with that, but they do have a problem with gays daring to emulate straight people's life courses. He was on stage for an hour and twenty minutes, and I could'nt help but think, that he could well afford trip back.

As we were leaving the O2, a guy in a wheelchair, complete with a puppy on his lap was shaking his bucket collecting for a good cause. This is how negative stereotypes persist! It is irrelevant what he was collecting for, all that will be remembered by the young people racing past him, scoffing burgers and discussing the show, is the image of a guy in a wheelchair with a begging bucket. Talk about letting the side down!

Friday 23/4/10: Looking forward to seeing ricky gervaisth tonight. Fuck knows, I need a laug and welcome change of scenary. Trying to write, but when it comes to anything even remotely personal, I'm like a mule, and will come up with any excuse not to pound those keypads. Finally reading "The god Squad" by paddy doyle after of wanting to!

Monday 12/4/10: Summer's a comin'!

Nice to see the longer days, with the brighter weather (sort of). I am amazed at how some people can call themselves architects. Went to see the "remember me" film in uci newbridge, and it is just not worth the sheer discomfort and pain, of being at the front staring up at a screen. My neck was in bits, and to think that I paid for that dubious priviledge.

Tried chinese massage in the square, and won't be in a hurry to go back. A bit of rubbing of the legs by a cranky and sour faced "doctor" who rubbed a lotion in which was probably made from some poor animals penis, all the while staring resolutely at his watch.

Was feeling bad for a rocking beggar I saw on the streets of newbridge, but I was told he was part of a gypsy begging group, which quickly changed my mind. Still, we are quick enough to shell out for lotto tickets etc.........

Easter Sunday April 4th

I think at this time of the year ,there is a lot of fuss about nothing. Wouldn’t it be a great thing, if all of us mere mortals, were constantly lauded for a few hours of suffering, a long time ago. I personally find it very insulting, and cannot believe why, or how, so many people feel that this occurrence is to be venerated above all others. I can understand the anger towards the church here in Ireland. I do feel sad for the majority of priests and nuns, who I genuinely believe are great people. The nuns of The Cross and Passion, were outstanding on so many levels to me. For me it is obvious, that what people refer to as the glory days of the church, were a complete fallacy. Sure the convents and monasteries were jammed packed, but in hindsight we can see that a lot of the people in them had no more compassion or sense of God, than the most vicious dog on the street. It is too little too late, to introduce strict screening procedures now, so that these abuses never happen again. If you were in any way attracted to children, being especially a priest of the Roman Church would be the very LAST thing you would want to be associated with. All of this goes back to the days when the church had absolute control, and as we know, absolute power corrupts absolutely !

Went to the Grand Canal Theatre last Sunday to see the SHEN YUN Chinese performing arts troop. Its a fantastic place and they have transformed the docklands, but there are no wheelchair parking spaces to be seen. Hoping to do a writing course, and still absolutely dying to organize a holiday somewhere . Hope it happens sooner rather than later. I signed up with Three Broadband. We come under The Nation Broadband Scheme, and I have to say that the signal booster that you get with it certainly does amplify it, although at the moment, I cannot truthfully say that it is infinitely faster than O2. My one compalint about three, is that they have all their customer support teams outsourced to India, and somethimes its very hard for me to get my point across. The O2 customer support based in Limerick are great in comparison

Thursday 18/3/10: Niggers, Bastards & Handicapped!

Was asked by someone recently, who has been very good to me in the past, if I'd like to go to lourdes. On the second asking, I managed to squeeze out a weak " I'm not that religious lately " which was met with "it has nothing to do with religion" Errrr I think it does.......quite a lot actually.

The idea of paying to look at a statue, and feign contentment in a very tacky catholic disneyland is just asking too much. I know a lot of the helper' that go claim not to be religious, and go for the fun, because there is a lot of fun to be had, but I think it is wrong to even pay lip service to this medieval charade. I have no desire to participate in the huge convoy of wheelchair users, accompanied by all the duly uniformed attendants and flag bearers.

By paying quiet lip service, you are giving tacit approval to an organization which in a lot of ways is anti women and gay, and has a lot of blood on its hands, through its anti choice opposition to abortion and contraception. It boggles belief, how a couple can want the big white wedding, with their child as pageboy/girl. This is the institution which would have viewed their offspring as bastards. Has a few prayerfull words and a certificate really transformed things that much?

The offer is slightly tempting, as I am dying to get away, especially to london for a few days. When you need assistance, its far from as simple as booking your flight and hotel. If not comprehensively arranged, it could very quickly become an expensive and dangerous nightmare. It seems there is no problem getting someone for an hour or two at a stretch, but after that................So if anyone has any ideas, please let me know.

Saw the play "My first time" on tuesday night in the moat in naas. Have to say I enjoyed it. It covered all the bases from straight/gay/child abuse/wanking/disabled with generous splashings of humour. I thought it was a real testimony to how much this country' attitudes towards sex have changed. The audience were mostly 50+ women, which was a surprise to me. The play was done in an intelligent way, and did'nt just go for the cheap "tits and fanny" gags.

Sometimes you get the impression that things have changed monumentally. Then you are forced to think again when you have so called professionals call you "handicapped" to your face. Would they call a black person a nigger? What's the difference? Personally I think its because they can get away with "handicapped" but know they would face serious consequences if they used "nigger" as a descriptive.

Missed the oscars, but saw the hurt locker yesterday, and honestly failed to see what all the fuss was about. Avatar certainly got my vote, but maybe the hurt locker was more politically appealing to the academy? Paddy's day was a non event again. Weather is still clinging onto winter, and it certainly was not the hottest day of the year so far down here anyway.

Whose life is it anyway?

(opening scene, bed on hospital ward, gary in bed. He's after being in a bad car crash 2 months ago and is totally paralysed from the waist down. Nurse Rose flutters in)

Rose: Well did you lay an egg for me?

Gary: (sombre monotone) You know a month ago, I would have been mortified beyond belief if someone had have asked me that. Sometimes I wonder "how low can I go, what new degradations and insults does today have to offer?"

Rose: Oh give me a break. There are plenty of people far worse off than you. (She recoils as she inhales his bed sheets odor) " you'll need new bedsheets I think”

Gary: why do you do that? (imitating her voice) "There's always someone worse off". That's dismissive insulting claptrap. And surely there's something wrong with trying to bolster YOURSELF  up by drawing on the misfortunes of others? The fact that there ARE other people in worse circumstance, doesn't impact on ME and on what I’M  going through7

Rose: (bubbily)Well tomorrow is another day, so why don't you turn that frown upside down?

Gary: Because I should be out their LIVING, laughing and fucking! Don't get me wrong I'm fully aware that life has plenty of bumps and twists, but thats all part of LIVING. If a cat or a dog got really sick, the owners would be prosecuted if they didn't bring it to the vet. Yet I'm supposed to live on in this life of forced humiliating dependancy. Bags,bedpans, hoists.......... I'm done with them!
Now I know you're not impartial, hell if we were all to press the eject button on life, you'd have no job.

Rose: There will always be sickness and accidents dear!

Gary: If this happened to one of your kids would you just accept it. And if you say yes, let me say that’s a selfish thing for you to do. To impose your views and dictats on someone else. To expect them to merely punch in their lives aimlessly, and without any purpose. Believe in life for sure, but not in “life” at all costs! To live on in whatever shit condition cannot be the only and holiest option.                                                 

Rose: (jubilantly)But our lord suffered, in terrible pain, so you could have eternal life!

Gary: You're missing the point that it was only for a few HOURS! Not laborious hours into days, weeks, months............ a l-if-e-t-im-e
Rose (stutterig nervously)  your man tells me that there’s a centre close to you where you can get your rehab AS WELL as making pottery or candles. Isn’t that just great news. Now I've got to go on my rounds pet! Press the intercom if you need anything, or if you can’t get to it, just roar!

Gary sniffles and rolls his head over into a fitful sleep.
At the end of his bed a man dressed all in white appears representing time, the universe
"Your life is just a speck in the infinite But it is YOUR time. Make your decision calmly and help will be drawn to you. Down through the ages, people come and go at different speeds. Some over staying their welcome, others leaving a vacuum that only I can alleviate. The value of a person’s life has NO connection to the amount of time they’ve spent here. I'm sorry to let you know but there is no great masterplan or cosmic significance to your time here. That has just been a crutch invented by some people to either dominate others, or help soften life blows. You are energy and if you follow through with your decision, you will return to source energy.Death is as natural as life. You have  been through your hell, so don’t pay any attention to the fear generating stories of ancient desert nomads,or their present day collaborators."

Stage goes dark, hospital machine flatlining rings out.
Light shines on rose who is kneeling before a picture of the crucified jesus:

May god forgive me for what I have done. His painful moans were just too piercing for me during the night. They reached some dark part of me that’s for sure and I gave him far too much pain relief meds. How could I have done such a thing, to facilitate him leaving this life on his own terms! I always considered myself as a promoter and defender of life, but just what kind of life am I defending?

(Opposite end of the stage light falls on gary’s dad, reading aloud from a letter he is penning to a national paper)
“Dear Readers,
My name is Tom O’ Mahony and I am glad my son is dead! Now that I have your attention dear reader, let me explain my reasons for this seemingly hostile and beligerant statement. My son recently passed away of suspected cardiac failure. However if this grateful accident had not occured, as a family we had bowed to his express desire to travel to the Dignitas clinic in switzerland. An all too common car accident robbed him of the use of his lower body, plus daily pains which were eased somewhat by a plethora of brightly coloured pills. I am of a generation which refused to allow any discussion of this issue. In hindsigh now, I can say its very easy to pontificate, when YOU are looking and smelling good, able to do all the mundane normalitie of daily living independently.”

Light at opposite end of stage again falls on rose:

“Just what was I thinking? If we mere mortals go down this road, we’ll soon be witnessing busloads of grannies and poor unfortunates, being forcibly euthanised against their will by unscrupulous relatived. Maybe he was just having a rough patch. He could have had a good life, I heard that local rehab centre just won awards for their pottery making and flower arranging”

Light falls on tom still reading from his letter:

“No one has the moral authority to assess another person’s quality of life, but when the affected individual themselves make a decision, and it is unilaterally ignored, then surely there is something very wrong with this picture. Gary was a college rugby player, who was playing the field in more ways than one, as we  always encouraged him to do. Thankfully we have the financial resources to have brought him to switzerland, but surely there is something wrong with struggling to find a solution like this in a cold foreign country, whose language you don’t even speak! Is a deathly two tier system going to emerge, whereby this is only an option for the monied few,and the rest can exist on in their own filth indefinitely?

I am not one bit ashamed to say I'm glad gary is gone. What some people call living just defies belief. Life is precious............but not all of the time. I call on the well meaning people of this country to not defensively dismiss this option, or to produce fear inducing stories of people who are just having a bad day being involuntarily and nonchalantly euthanized.

Rose: I think back to my dad, god rest his soul, and of how my mother devoted her life to him, even when dementia transformed him into a poker wielding madman. None of us could leave our own young families, to assist him. That nightmare humdrum went on for four long years before our good lord called bim home, and mammy nnot long after that

Rose collapses

She awakes in a hospital bed, unable to speak.

Dr O’Mahony (gary’s dad) addresses her: “it appears mrs boyle that you have had a stroke. You will regain control of your speech and left side over time. Fortunately your son found you just in time or the prognosis would have been a lot worse.

 

Nurse Ann flutters around: We’ll have you up and about in no time. There’s a great rehab clinic not too far from here where you can do flower arranging and potter while you’re getting better.
Now, did you lay an egg for me?

 

Wednsday 10/3/10 ; Farewell UCI Tallaght!

The best cinema for wheelchair users around is biting the dust. Suppose I have to get used to staring at the screen from the front. Its obvious that these so called architects only think of access as an after thought. For chair usrs, uci tallaght always offered the best seats in the house; back centre, and will be sorely missed! Apparently the landlord's wanted higher rental rates which defies belief. You'd think tha they would be happy to have a reliable tenant at all, in this day and age. I have noticed that not a lot of people go to the cinema any more. Often there would only be a smattering. I think the square is going to be the biggest loser. Not much point going there if there is no cinema. Plan B is VUE in liffey valley, still at the front, but bearable.

As you can see, I am back to wearing glasses. When I lost the job in october, I was at home all day staring at the laptop. Maybe that's the definitive culprit, or just a natural untimely decline (I got 8 years of perfect vision out of lasik after all) I am only -1 in each eye,but I detest glasses with a passion, the way they fog up when you're drinking tea, and always get lost just when you need them. Apparetly I am a candidate for lasek, but my gp is reluctant to sign the consent letter. Besdes whats the point of having the surgery (2900 euro) if I am going to have them decline again with the heavy lapto use, which is a given. Decisions, decisions!

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday 21/2/10: Am never going to complain about the cold again. Am looking out this am at another winter wonderland scene, that I'd far prefer were confined to a book. Have alredy endured one week, of being snowbound. And to think some people still dismiss global warming?

Went to see "The Lovely Bones" yesterday. Luckily I had listened to the audio bood and knew the story. Audio book' are great. Its a very hard film to translate to the big screen, but seoirse rowan is great. Then it was on to the Titanic exhibition out in citywest, which was fascinating. I got a great doctored picture at the ship's grand staircase that I will put up soon.

Monday 8/2/10: Fair’s fair!

Went to see invictus on Saturday in liffey valley. The wheelchair spaces are up at the front, but there is sufficient space between the front and the screen that you aren’t straining your neck out of its sockets.

The film, or at least the bits that I could see and hear, was ok. A little bit hollywoody. I really don’t think the problems of south Africa, were at all suspended or eased by the winning of a rugby match. I know that’s simplistic, but was the racial divide that alleviated as a result? Anyway I digress.

My main issue was when a guy ( I presume he was an assistant) came in with two guys, one who was quiet, but the other groaned and growled loudly through the film, eventually being brought out towards the end of the film. I thought it was very unfair, and my anger would be directed at the assistant, who obviously just wanted to punch in time, and get to see a movie for free.

I presume it wasn’t for the intellectually disabled guys benefit, as he spent his time on the sound effects, slurping on his drink and depositing popcorn on the floor. My rights to see a film, do not supercede everyelse’s who have paid good money to see the film in peace. If they had been, a noisy young pack, the ushers would have been obliged to throw them out, or if he had tourette’.

Unfortunately, we all come under this huge umbrella of disability. I no longer bring in popcorn or a drink to the cinema, as I eat too noisily and have a spasmic reaction to sudden noises(as one guy in tallaght found out to his cost years ago).If there comes a time where I can’t eat or swallow, then I won’t go to a restaurant, and subject the other patron’s to that unappetizing sight.

Getting a new mattress and have a visit from a physiotherapust tomorrow. How exciting!

 

Wednsday 3/2/10 Normality: Friend or foe

Caught a glimpse of you briefly,

Miss you now you’re gone,

Hope I will catch you agaBefore I’m done.

Its a gaping character defect, which I cannot attribute solely to fa, but I have an intense jealousy of other people’s accomplishments be they big or small. Their travels, social lives, jobs : their normalities! It seems to me at times, that even if you have made a lifetime of wrong decisions, with bad choices around partners, drugs, kids etc, that’s all part of living, and it sure beats being bed bound watching life monotonously tick past.

The crazy thing about fa is because it is relatively gradual, you fight with all your might not to fall under the vast all encompassing term of physical disability (probably because once you get to that stage you are stuck there). I look back now, and it is sadly ludicrous that I considered myself normal, even when I was staggering under passing lorries, uttering things that even I couldn’t understand, or struggling with personal care issues.

Badly need to broaden my social repertoire, and try different things. Need to break out of my self constructed rut. To that end, I will be making some dates with the riverbank theatre in new bridge. Bought tickets to see the Shen Yun Performing Arts troupe, when they come to the new grand canal theatre in Dublin. There seems to be a new trend of not comping a disabled person’s assistant. Thankfully I don’t have to buy two tickets at the uci cinema, as this would make the cost prohibitive. I am not using a seat, but am paying for the assistants, whether they can understand, or even abide by the film. Maybe its just the inevitable, profit maximising reality of the times we live in, but an analogy would be charging a blind person’s guide dog too.

Tuesday 26/01/10: Want to clarify the overall tone of my website. I don't want my website to be seen as negativte. The overriding aim of this website, is to provide me with a forum for self expression, so that I can be in the middle of the countryside with a dilapidated body, and still feel connected with the outside world, and that someone somewhere is listening. I got a email last night from someone in Wales, that has a brother with fa. I hate to think that I am adding to any sense of hopelessness or pessimissm that someone may have, but for me this website is a form of therapy, and I am not going to sugar coat it for anyone or anything. Life is precious, people are amazing with what they endure, and I can say this until I am blue in the face. But people, especially those who believe in talking snakes and virgin births, look at it in a very narrow form, and extract from it only that which goes along with there beliefs; ie that I am a godless, bitter and twisted individual.

I suppose I have been fortunate, that I have never contracted a virus on my pc before. It was only out of sheer meaness that I looked up youtube, and found a site which promised to be able to download free movies. The site called graboid.com infected my laptop with some trojan virus. So from Saturday on my laptop kept crashing but it has been a nightmare, and it just goes to show that you always need to back up all your files. To my credit, the laptop is a lot better now, but only because I've been manually going into the registry, and deleting suspect programs. This is very time consuming, and the tech support people in England quickly lose patience with me, as they can't really understand me, and wonder why it takes me so long to execute all ther instructions.

I had a visit yesterday from a occuptional therapist which was the first time in around eighteen months. She only needed to take one look at me, to be aware of how bad my posture is. Given the budget constraints of the health board at the moment, I don"t think I am going to see anything materialise at the moment. She mentioned a "tilt in space wheelchair" which I had to look up on the internet, but which I must admit does look very promising. Its only really when I catch a glimpse of my reflection, that I can totally apprecieans ate how appalling my posture really is. I am now totally sloped over to the left hand side, and question now all the time I spent on youtube looking up yoga poses and other exercises that I can do. It all seems largely to have been in vain, but I suppose so much of what goes with fa means that you are taking one step forward and two steps back.

Wednsday 20/1/10 I am so annoyed. Sky news are saying that a mother has been senten0ced to 9 years for ending the life of her brain dead son. What a despicable ruling. I get the foul stench of religion. Would the judge and members of the jury volunteer to change, feed and comfort him if his mother had died herself? Its very easy to pontificate about abstract issues, when you're not the one dependant on others for everything and stinking of piss! I now view people who follow the teachings of desert itinerants as mentally sick, and its frightening to think they want to shape the laws and dictate how people "live" their lives in 2010.

Love katherine lynch the comedienne, but yesterday' single women wasn't great, and I hope that she is not going to run out of material, and go the same way as catherine tate,. Went to see Avatar again in liffey valley ( it just won't be the same on dvd). Whoever designed the cinema' in uci newbridge, vue liffey valley and storm cinema in naas have a hard neck if they call themselves architects. The wheelchair spaces are up at the very front, and your neck will suffer. You can't beat uci tallaght. Centre back, as it should be.

Saturday 16/1/10:I am never going to complain about the freezing cold or rain again. I had two weeks of tortuous immobilization. Where most of the main roads were impassable, even during the worst days. Our narrow country roads were just treacherous. Thankfully we dont have this every year, and to think that some people still doubt the existance of global warming. Well I suppose we better get used to it. I am just back from seeing Avatar for the second time. Its difficult to explain how visually stunning it is, and don't be put off thinking that it may just appeal to children.I am determined to go swimming tomorrow. I've really got to disclipine myself more, and not just fall into a lazy habit of drifting through the day eating.Found a site by athiest ireland about opting out of the catholic church. The recent blasphemy laws here has goaded me into this. To think that a crazy set of conditioning thoughts, shrouded by the untouchable cloak of "religion" should be law in 2010 is just too much to stomach. I don't want to be on their register, and have them factor me in their numbers. Free speech is a basic. Nothing should eever be considered beyond discussion or criticism, and such a law is a major retrograde step. On a lighter note, I bought the hilarious katherine lynch dvd, its a real tonic. Would love a sun holiday at this time of year, but the organizing logistics are proving to be too much of a headache.

 

 

Monday 21/12/09 Virgin's can't give birth people!

Imagine a heavily pregnant young woman going into a social welfare office, plopping herself down and beginning to fill out forms for the express reason to get some money to get over this time of the year.Having returned the completed forms, the middle aged obese woman, peers at her over her glasses, and her reddish jowels wobble, as she barks that the father' contact details on the form have'nt been completed.

" the government can't be expected to shoulder all the father of your child's financial responcibility madam, in a tone which pulsates through the room

"Oh, it was an immaculate conception", the young woman breezily responds

"SECURITY!"

That poor woman would be sent to the nearest psychiatric ward so fast!

Sunday 29/11/09 : Joe's second anniversary

Even though the weather today was so appaling we went up to our local church for Joe' anniversary mass. In some ways it feels like a life time ago, but in other ways it only feels like yesterday, as I suppose the film is constantly being replayed. The heating in the church wasn't working, and I was absolutely stiff as a board. Combine this with the fact that the mass itself is completely devoid of meaning for me now, and the end result is that I'm sure I won't be back for another long time. I only went anyway for mothers sake anyway, but I couldn't get home soon enough, and was not tha stupid to venture outside again.

Someone said to me today "you must feel so sad about Joe", probably expecting a gushing responce.. My immediate response was no, they could have kept him alive, but only if they gave him a tracheaotomy, and the thought of him still in his room , without even the ability to verbalise is absolutely appaling and barbaric. Unfortuntately I know there are plenty of cases like that in Ireland today. The first thing I would say to those who proudly proclaim themselves to be "pro-life", is just exactly what kind of life do you believe in? Even though we have his grave very nicely done up at the moment with lots of little statues and flowers, I feel fairly certain that he sure aint there underneath that wet and sodden ground.

Today was more or less the first day that I have stayed indoors. It would have been pointless to go somewhere anway, because a lot of the roads were completely flooded. Thankfully we live on a hill so are relatively unaffected, but I do wonder sometimes how this country does not sink. To think that large parts of the world are crying out for rain and the earth is parched and barren, I wonder does this have to be the way it is or can we not give them even a fraction of our excess, which would no doubt go a long way to solving their problems.

I'm sure I'm one of the last people in the world to avail of it, but I am now enjoying the benefits of Skype. To be able to contact someone anywhere in the world, even if they do not have Skype, is fantastic. It makes the world so small, and it beggars belief how these big communication companies can get away with charging so much. My mother was totally amazed at the technology that allows her to speak to her nephews in California.

02 is continuing to save my life with their reliable broadband service. Thankfully they have now increased their allowance from 10 to 15 GB which is really more than enough. If you are downloading movies or video clips though, they takes up a lot of memory, and it is not worthwhile to go over the designated allowance, as apparently then they charge 5 cent a megabite.

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