A man can walk the streets topless, no fear of assault in mind...
A woman walks the streets in a short skirt, supposedly asking for it...
Paradox?
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Conspiracy Theories
One issue persists the Irish republic of late - no, it is not the bin Laden conspiracies, nor is it the RTE newsboards most used colloquialism 'current economical crisis' - it is something far more pretentious and controversial for the Irish mind. It is something many regard as insulting, others view as a waste of tax payers money, and fewer can symbolically shrug off their shoulders. It relates more to historical events and pride than current times and rationality. Namely, it is the Queen's timely visit to Ireland.
Prior monarchical visits outdate the Irish Republic's establishment, the Free State's inception, hell, it even predates that immortal event the 1916 Rising. Therein, it seems almost needless to note the secutiry alert it has, ultimately, triggered.
Threats have been flung left, right and centre. Conspiracy theories have entered the mainstage of the Irish republic. Suspicious packages litter every alleyway (and the Queen will most certainly click her heels on those streets, don't you know!). If the auld ones were lacking in gossip, they're sorted now
For the moment, the gossip concerns the most recent activities of Dublin's Garda Shiocana. Which - when not approaching unidentified containers or bleaching over the 'no royal visit' graffiti - is the unsealing, searching and resealing of the city centres gutters, manholes and shores, much to the scandal, shock and overall concern of the public.
The obvious answer/conspiracy remains: someone could place a bomb there.
"Yes, yes, of course. Another of the ever covert actions of that disputed, often feared, often praised faction of Irish history, inconspicuously referred to as the IRA. That's why their checking them. Yes. Sure enough. No harm being thorough, ensure the safely of both our royal visitor and our citizens. Only makes sense. Yes, yes, of course." - so says the recent conspiracy theory.
Now, my conspiracy theory? Much more exciting, much more convincing - teenage mutant ninja turtles.
Yes, yes, of course.
Prior monarchical visits outdate the Irish Republic's establishment, the Free State's inception, hell, it even predates that immortal event the 1916 Rising. Therein, it seems almost needless to note the secutiry alert it has, ultimately, triggered.
Threats have been flung left, right and centre. Conspiracy theories have entered the mainstage of the Irish republic. Suspicious packages litter every alleyway (and the Queen will most certainly click her heels on those streets, don't you know!). If the auld ones were lacking in gossip, they're sorted now
For the moment, the gossip concerns the most recent activities of Dublin's Garda Shiocana. Which - when not approaching unidentified containers or bleaching over the 'no royal visit' graffiti - is the unsealing, searching and resealing of the city centres gutters, manholes and shores, much to the scandal, shock and overall concern of the public.
The obvious answer/conspiracy remains: someone could place a bomb there.
"Yes, yes, of course. Another of the ever covert actions of that disputed, often feared, often praised faction of Irish history, inconspicuously referred to as the IRA. That's why their checking them. Yes. Sure enough. No harm being thorough, ensure the safely of both our royal visitor and our citizens. Only makes sense. Yes, yes, of course." - so says the recent conspiracy theory.
Now, my conspiracy theory? Much more exciting, much more convincing - teenage mutant ninja turtles.
Yes, yes, of course.
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
Putting Manners on a Feminist
Of two things I am absolutely certain:
The first is that there simply is no ladylike way of hitching up one's tights.
The best option being to show one's androgynous inclinations, grab 'em at the crotch and give them a good pull, the way one would when starting a lawnmower or ripping a profilated sheet from an A4 pad.
The second is that this androgyny simply should not be a problem.
If a man (rappers, the STI infected, Michael Jackson) can do it, why can't women? For the sake of a good image and attractiveness?
Time to break that boundary, I believe. What's the point of an attractive self-image when my tights are straggling at the knees? From now on, my hands will be firmly on my crotch for reasons beyond the sexual kind - won't that make a nice change!
Time to take a page from Bill Bailey's book! :)
The first is that there simply is no ladylike way of hitching up one's tights.
The best option being to show one's androgynous inclinations, grab 'em at the crotch and give them a good pull, the way one would when starting a lawnmower or ripping a profilated sheet from an A4 pad.
The second is that this androgyny simply should not be a problem.
If a man (rappers, the STI infected, Michael Jackson) can do it, why can't women? For the sake of a good image and attractiveness?
Time to break that boundary, I believe. What's the point of an attractive self-image when my tights are straggling at the knees? From now on, my hands will be firmly on my crotch for reasons beyond the sexual kind - won't that make a nice change!
Thursday, 17 February 2011
A Quick Apology To Cyberspace
I should introduce myself. Tell you my name, some random personal detail, some aspirations for the future, maybe a humiliating detail or feature. Well, procrastination being as powerful as it is in young'uns (English transnational: young ones) nowadays, I won't. But, perhaps, if you've such a desperate urge to know me, to know these random details, these humiliating, mediocre and meaningless facts, you won't find them here... you'll have to scroll down.
It's on the left hand side there, if I'm correct. Forgive the previous hostility. It's the burden of a cynical optimist you see. We flip flop from happy welcomes with warm smiles and sweet fluttering eyelashes to sarcastic responses, cold glares and knife threats in the space of .6 seconds. That's all the time it takes, don't believe me I dare you to visit one of us c-o's, though I can't promise you'll leave the same person you entered.
As for this blog, which is the reason I'm providing such a shabby excuse for an introduction, well it's a trifling thing really. I could lie. Call it my inspiration blog, a place where I'll detail all my genius for all the world. But! Why would I do that when you'd all just go and steal it on me?! Ah no, seriously. This blog is not destined to be some triumph of humanity, some piece of literary fame, some excuse for a classic many years from now. It won't devolve themes of politics in close scrutiny. It will not encompass some spiritual explanation of the world and its inhabitants. It may not even entertain those theories of a higher literary form, as most literary students would expect.
Realistically, this blog, in full honesty and with full apologies, will not invoke in you any kind of epiphany or enlightenment. It will, I can hope, provide an outlet for creative writing for myself, it may even induce a few giggles, a smirk, hell, a shoulder shrugging and I'll be grateful! Thus, under the powerful influence of the aforementioned procrastination, I'll remind you to read the title of the blog, and ask you please, to apply it to yourself if you've actually wasted your time reading this.
It's on the left hand side there, if I'm correct. Forgive the previous hostility. It's the burden of a cynical optimist you see. We flip flop from happy welcomes with warm smiles and sweet fluttering eyelashes to sarcastic responses, cold glares and knife threats in the space of .6 seconds. That's all the time it takes, don't believe me I dare you to visit one of us c-o's, though I can't promise you'll leave the same person you entered.
As for this blog, which is the reason I'm providing such a shabby excuse for an introduction, well it's a trifling thing really. I could lie. Call it my inspiration blog, a place where I'll detail all my genius for all the world. But! Why would I do that when you'd all just go and steal it on me?! Ah no, seriously. This blog is not destined to be some triumph of humanity, some piece of literary fame, some excuse for a classic many years from now. It won't devolve themes of politics in close scrutiny. It will not encompass some spiritual explanation of the world and its inhabitants. It may not even entertain those theories of a higher literary form, as most literary students would expect.
Realistically, this blog, in full honesty and with full apologies, will not invoke in you any kind of epiphany or enlightenment. It will, I can hope, provide an outlet for creative writing for myself, it may even induce a few giggles, a smirk, hell, a shoulder shrugging and I'll be grateful! Thus, under the powerful influence of the aforementioned procrastination, I'll remind you to read the title of the blog, and ask you please, to apply it to yourself if you've actually wasted your time reading this.
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