sluggerotoole--2020-06-12--Loyalism: The Enduring Perception of Loss…

My university dissertation that I began researching and writing in Summer 2013 to eventually submit in Spring 2014 asked the question ‘ Why do Northern Ireland loyalists feel they have lost out from the peace process and current political settlement ?
’ This was a question that I genuinely was curious about during the 2012-2013 flag protests resulting from the vote in December 2012 in Belfast City Council to reduce the number of days the union flag flew atop Belfast City Hall .
Although these Northern-Ireland-wide protests are now consigned to history , they dominated news coverage at the time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , from loyalists believing their way of life was being irreversibly changed for worse to a commuter ’ s journey to and from work being delayed .
What struck me about the protests was the ubiquitous feeling of loss that contagiously depressed every flag protester , namely that they felt their identity and culture were being eroded and that republicanism was winning at their expense .
They felt humiliated and mocked .
They felt that their lives would be worse off .
This negative feeling of loss within loyalism however is not new @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It was this pessimism within loyalism that I wanted to research and write about and to see what drove it , and whether there was any hope for optimism within political loyalism .
Below is a concise version of my dissertation that I have updated to take recent events such as Brexit and the 2020 restoration of the Northern Ireland Executive and Assembly into account .
Loyalist political representatives at the time of the flag protests stressed the flag protests were not just about the flag decision itself but actually was an eruption @ @ @ @ @ @ @ long list of grievances loyalists had with the political system and political culture of Northern Ireland that they felt alienated from .
They believed their unionist traditions , identity and culture were regularly disrespected and were not treated on equal with the identities , traditions and culture of republicans .
They believed republicans got a better deal on legacy issues than them and were frustrated with the socioeconomic inequalities their communities had to live with and lack of opportunity , be they educational underachievement , access to further and higher education or unemployment @ @ @ @ @ @ @ unemployment or even in the access and provision of healthcare services in mental and physical health .
Not all grievances were contemporary however .
Many were historical , such as the decades of violence of republican paramilitaries in the Troubles as well as lack of confidence in the state ’ s ability to handle it along with the generational impact the violence had on the lives of unionists and loyalists .
Loyalists also distrusted each succeeding unionist and British government which they felt would compromise too much for peace and could not be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ they negotiated , believing a sellout or betrayal would come further down the line .
They also saw the disbandment of certain historical state security services that they believe protected them from republican violence as a punishment for loyalists and a rewarding of republican violence .
Some loyalists historically and in current times believe the domestic and international media is against them and believe they portray them in bad light , thinking the media favours republican narratives of history and political events over that of loyalists .
Some loyalists are also distrustful of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Parades Commission , believing they get treated more harshly than republicans in the enforcement of law and order in parades and protests than republicans do , which they believe is intrinsically unfair .
All of these grievances cumulated into some loyalists ultimately believing the union was and still is under threat , where they feared a united Ireland would happen under growing demographics that they believe are in favour of republicanism .
In an imagined united Ireland , some loyalists dreaded being oppressed and discriminated against , especially in revenge for events @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the history of Northern Ireland and Ireland within a world that is not sympathetic to them or their way of life .
It would be unfair to say there have been no times when loyalists felt they were winning .
During the 1994 ceasefires and negotiations for the 1998 Good Friday Agreement , some loyalists were hopeful for the future and believed they benefited from the political settlement and peace process where loyalist party-political representation were included in the peace talks and with there being loyalist political representatives being elected to the Northern @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were militarily and politically defeated as they had to abandon their armed campaign and compromise on many key republican beliefs such as agreeing to participate in the democratic institutions of the state they want to dismantle .
Some loyalists believed the Good Friday Agreement would be a new start for their communities where they would benefit from government programmes and peace funding .
Some loyalists were also reassured by the consent principle contained within the Good Friday Agreement that Northern Ireland would remain in the UK as long as the majority of Northern @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Republic of Ireland repealing its territorial claim over Northern Ireland in the Irish Constitution .
Loyalists that supported power-sharing and devolution were happy to see its return in 2007 and 2020 after each collapse that occurred respectively in 2002 and 2017 , along with attempts to keep the political system stable and from collapsing again , believing that direct rule would be worse for their communities than devolution .
In recent times , loyalists that supported Brexit felt a sense of victory when the UK voted to leave the European Union in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more independent in its affairs even at a cost of losing political and economic influence on the world stage .
Some loyalists who do not support power-sharing and devolution were happy to see the collapse of the Northern Ireland Executive and Assembly in 2002 and 2017 , as they believed too many concessions were being made to republicans at their expense .
Historically , loyalists did not find the negotiation of the Good Friday Agreement to be a smooth process .
They had concerns over North-South bodies and distrusted republican commitments to decommissioning @ @ @ @ @ @ @ republican violence happened to put pressure on the British government to make compromises for its security interests .
Loyalists also had a perception that the republican negotiating team was superior to theirs and were aware that republicans had more electoral support and legitimacy in their communities than they did and were feared in case republican paramilitaries reverted back to their armed campaign .
Loyalists also felt they did not enjoy the same advantages that nationalists and republicans had in its access to governments , such as the Irish government and the US government @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the peace talks , which made loyalists feel they had less influence .
Consequently , this made it more difficult for loyalist political representatives to sell the benefits of the Good Friday Agreement to a naturally sceptical base that was suspicious of negotiations and deals being made , fearing that information was being withheld from them by the participating governments and that what they would see as a betrayal would come further down the line .
Eventually , loyalist political representation in the Assembly would be diminished over the time of its continued @ @ @ @ @ @ @ only with seats at a Council level currently in Northern Ireland .
In recent times , loyalists who supported Brexit in 2016 have consequently felt betrayed over the current UK government ’ s Brexit deal , fearing that it could lead to Northern Ireland being slowly separated in time from the UK with Northern Ireland being subject to different conditions from the rest of the UK .
Loyalists who do no support devolution and power-sharing were angered by the restoration of the Northern Ireland Executive and Assembly in 2020 , believing that devolution @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to gradually gain concessions in the long run using the face of what republicans consider equality to mask what loyalists believe is a hidden republican agenda .
Some loyalists feel this could lead to the dismantling of the Northern Ireland state and of loyalist traditions , culture and identity .
They also believe this in conjunction with the current Brexit deal could ultimately achieve a united Ireland through the back door in playing to aspirations to rejoin the EU through constitutional change .
A recurrent theme within loyalism is confusion over what loyalists @ @ @ @ @ @ @ they do not feel represented by the mainstream unionist parties but continue to support them , even advocating unionist unity in all unionist parties either through merging them together as a single unionist party or wanting pacts between them in marginal seats .
This shows a lack of confidence in the position some loyalists take and more importantly , they do not see much point in challenging the party-political status quo that they claim to be unhappy with .
There is also a lack of strategic planning .
On the one hand , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Brexit actually meant in practice and just how complicated the Brexit negotiations would be .
Even more importantly , history shows that political instability actually threatens Northern Ireland ’ s place in the UK as the UK government has other interests to contend with besides Northern Ireland during constitutional crises , such as the regional pressures the UK government is under from its other constituent parts England , Scotland and Wales .
There are also divides within loyalism over social issues such as LGBT rights and abortion .
Some loyalists would be more @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be more conservative .
This also extends to wider debates on what equality means and how it is achieved , along with what action should be taken on climate change and maintaining the environment .
Some loyalists would be open-minded on reaching out to republicans to help build bridges while other loyalists would be suspicious of reaching out over past distrust with republicans where they feel they could be outmanoeuvred and so believe it is better not to engage .
Many loyalists are effective communicators on social media and blogs where they confidently @ @ @ @ @ @ @ audience without their views being filtered by the mainstream media , a concern that loyalists historically had .
Some loyalists are effective in engaging with the mainstream media in knowing what to say , how to say it and how to rally support for their beliefs while maintaining relevancy .
This new generation of loyalist activists are more eager to engage with different media in articulating their views and debating republicans .
Some loyalists have shown learning from past mistakes , such as knowing it is easier to call for a protest than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ they sometimes end up , recognising it is not a good look to present to domestic and international media .
Some loyalists have taken it upon themselves to politically educate their communities to express their identity , culture and traditions in a positive way and to see the police positively in helping to control protests and parades for their own safety .
Other loyalists have shown outreach to republicans in a genuine attempt to build community relations , recognising many loyalists and republicans experience the same socioeconomic problems as each other and that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ towards solving these socioeconomic inequalities rather than argue over history and politics that they will probably never agree on .
The future of political loyalism is ultimately in the hands of the new generation of loyalist activists and where they wish to take political loyalism in the views they express and the political strategy they implement .

Background
My university dissertation that I began researching and writing in Summer 2013 to eventually submit in Spring 2014 asked the question ‘Why do Northern Ireland loyalists feel they have lost out from the peace process and current political settlement?’ This was a question that I genuinely was curious about during the 2012-2013 flag protests resulting from the vote in December 2012 in Belfast City Council to reduce the number of days the union flag flew atop Belfast City Hall.
Although these Northern-Ireland-wide protests are now consigned to history, they dominated news coverage at the time and impacted on people’s lives, from loyalists believing their way of life was being irreversibly changed for worse to a commuter’s journey to and from work being delayed.
What struck me about the protests was the ubiquitous feeling of loss that contagiously depressed every flag protester, namely that they felt their identity and culture were being eroded and that republicanism was winning at their expense. They felt humiliated and mocked. They felt that their lives would be worse off. This negative feeling of loss within loyalism however is not new and has endured since its inception. It was this pessimism within loyalism that I wanted to research and write about and to see what drove it, and whether there was any hope for optimism within political loyalism. Below is a concise version of my dissertation that I have updated to take recent events such as Brexit and the 2020 restoration of the Northern Ireland Executive and Assembly into account.
Grievances
Loyalist political representatives at the time of the flag protests stressed the flag protests were not just about the flag decision itself but actually was an eruption of anger and frustration resulting from a long list of grievances loyalists had with the political system and political culture of Northern Ireland that they felt alienated from. They believed their unionist traditions, identity and culture were regularly disrespected and were not treated on equal with the identities, traditions and culture of republicans. They believed republicans got a better deal on legacy issues than them and were frustrated with the socioeconomic inequalities their communities had to live with and lack of opportunity, be they educational underachievement, access to further and higher education or unemployment such as in youth unemployment, generational unemployment or even in the access and provision of healthcare services in mental and physical health.
Not all grievances were contemporary however. Many were historical, such as the decades of violence of republican paramilitaries in the Troubles as well as lack of confidence in the state’s ability to handle it along with the generational impact the violence had on the lives of unionists and loyalists. Loyalists also distrusted each succeeding unionist and British government which they felt would compromise too much for peace and could not be relied on in any deals or agreements they negotiated, believing a sellout or betrayal would come further down the line. They also saw the disbandment of certain historical state security services that they believe protected them from republican violence as a punishment for loyalists and a rewarding of republican violence.
Some loyalists historically and in current times believe the domestic and international media is against them and believe they portray them in bad light, thinking the media favours republican narratives of history and political events over that of loyalists. Some loyalists are also distrustful of the police and state institutions such as the Parades Commission, believing they get treated more harshly than republicans in the enforcement of law and order in parades and protests than republicans do, which they believe is intrinsically unfair.
All of these grievances cumulated into some loyalists ultimately believing the union was and still is under threat, where they feared a united Ireland would happen under growing demographics that they believe are in favour of republicanism. In an imagined united Ireland, some loyalists dreaded being oppressed and discriminated against, especially in revenge for events that happened in the past and throughout the history of Northern Ireland and Ireland within a world that is not sympathetic to them or their way of life.
Winning
It would be unfair to say there have been no times when loyalists felt they were winning. During the 1994 ceasefires and negotiations for the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, some loyalists were hopeful for the future and believed they benefited from the political settlement and peace process where loyalist party-political representation were included in the peace talks and with there being loyalist political representatives being elected to the Northern Ireland Assembly. They believed republican paramilitaries were militarily and politically defeated as they had to abandon their armed campaign and compromise on many key republican beliefs such as agreeing to participate in the democratic institutions of the state they want to dismantle.
Some loyalists believed the Good Friday Agreement would be a new start for their communities where they would benefit from government programmes and peace funding. Some loyalists were also reassured by the consent principle contained within the Good Friday Agreement that Northern Ireland would remain in the UK as long as the majority of Northern Ireland agrees to this, along with the Republic of Ireland repealing its territorial claim over Northern Ireland in the Irish Constitution.
Loyalists that supported power-sharing and devolution were happy to see its return in 2007 and 2020 after each collapse that occurred respectively in 2002 and 2017, along with attempts to keep the political system stable and from collapsing again, believing that direct rule would be worse for their communities than devolution.
In recent times, loyalists that supported Brexit felt a sense of victory when the UK voted to leave the European Union in what they saw was the UK becoming more independent in its affairs even at a cost of losing political and economic influence on the world stage. Some loyalists who do not support power-sharing and devolution were happy to see the collapse of the Northern Ireland Executive and Assembly in 2002 and 2017, as they believed too many concessions were being made to republicans at their expense.
Losing
Historically, loyalists did not find the negotiation of the Good Friday Agreement to be a smooth process. They had concerns over North-South bodies and distrusted republican commitments to decommissioning of its arms while spontaneous acts of republican violence happened to put pressure on the British government to make compromises for its security interests. Loyalists also had a perception that the republican negotiating team was superior to theirs and were aware that republicans had more electoral support and legitimacy in their communities than they did and were feared in case republican paramilitaries reverted back to their armed campaign.
Loyalists also felt they did not enjoy the same advantages that nationalists and republicans had in its access to governments, such as the Irish government and the US government in articulating its concerns and interests during the peace talks, which made loyalists feel they had less influence. Consequently, this made it more difficult for loyalist political representatives to sell the benefits of the Good Friday Agreement to a naturally sceptical base that was suspicious of negotiations and deals being made, fearing that information was being withheld from them by the participating governments and that what they would see as a betrayal would come further down the line.
Eventually, loyalist political representation in the Assembly would be diminished over the time of its continued operation in later years, leaving it only with seats at a Council level currently in Northern Ireland. In recent times, loyalists who supported Brexit in 2016 have consequently felt betrayed over the current UK government’s Brexit deal, fearing that it could lead to Northern Ireland being slowly separated in time from the UK with Northern Ireland being subject to different conditions from the rest of the UK.
Loyalists who do no support devolution and power-sharing were angered by the restoration of the Northern Ireland Executive and Assembly in 2020, believing that devolution only serves as a means of republicans to gradually gain concessions in the long run using the face of what republicans consider equality to mask what loyalists believe is a hidden republican agenda. Some loyalists feel this could lead to the dismantling of the Northern Ireland state and of loyalist traditions, culture and identity. They also believe this in conjunction with the current Brexit deal could ultimately achieve a united Ireland through the back door in playing to aspirations to rejoin the EU through constitutional change.
What Loyalism Stands For
A recurrent theme within loyalism is confusion over what loyalists stand for. Some loyalists would say they do not feel represented by the mainstream unionist parties but continue to support them, even advocating unionist unity in all unionist parties either through merging them together as a single unionist party or wanting pacts between them in marginal seats. This shows a lack of confidence in the position some loyalists take and more importantly, they do not see much point in challenging the party-political status quo that they claim to be unhappy with.
There is also a lack of strategic planning. On the one hand, some loyalists supported Brexit not realising what Brexit actually meant in practice and just how complicated the Brexit negotiations would be. Even more importantly, history shows that political instability actually threatens Northern Ireland’s place in the UK as the UK government has other interests to contend with besides Northern Ireland during constitutional crises, such as the regional pressures the UK government is under from its other constituent parts England, Scotland and Wales.
There are also divides within loyalism over social issues such as LGBT rights and abortion. Some loyalists would be more liberal on these issues, some would be more conservative. This also extends to wider debates on what equality means and how it is achieved, along with what action should be taken on climate change and maintaining the environment. Some loyalists would be open-minded on reaching out to republicans to help build bridges while other loyalists would be suspicious of reaching out over past distrust with republicans where they feel they could be outmanoeuvred and so believe it is better not to engage.
Hope For The Future
Many loyalists are effective communicators on social media and blogs where they confidently put forward their beliefs directly to their audience without their views being filtered by the mainstream media, a concern that loyalists historically had. Some loyalists are effective in engaging with the mainstream media in knowing what to say, how to say it and how to rally support for their beliefs while maintaining relevancy. This new generation of loyalist activists are more eager to engage with different media in articulating their views and debating republicans.
Some loyalists have shown learning from past mistakes, such as knowing it is easier to call for a protest than it is to control one and where they sometimes end up, recognising it is not a good look to present to domestic and international media. Some loyalists have taken it upon themselves to politically educate their communities to express their identity, culture and traditions in a positive way and to see the police positively in helping to control protests and parades for their own safety.
Other loyalists have shown outreach to republicans in a genuine attempt to build community relations, recognising many loyalists and republicans experience the same socioeconomic problems as each other and that it is better to spend time working towards solving these socioeconomic inequalities rather than argue over history and politics that they will probably never agree on.
The future of political loyalism is ultimately in the hands of the new generation of loyalist activists and where they wish to take political loyalism in the views they express and the political strategy they implement.


sluggerotoole--2020-06-13--Seamus Heaney and the dullness of “Grey Cement”…

One wintery evening in the early 1970s , a RTE film crew arrived at my boarding school , St Columb ’ s College on Bishop Street in Derry , to make a TV documentary .
It was rare excitement in the boredom and routine that defined the boarders ’ lives .
The subject of the documentary was an ex-boarder , the poet Seamus Heaney .
One scene involved an actor – or perhaps it was the poet himself –sneaking down the wrought-iron fire-escape attached to the grey-stoned gable of Senior House .
With large arc lights challenging the darkness , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , watching on , he gingerly tip-toed from the top storey senior bedrooms past the apartments of the college president .
Stepping Stones , Denis O ’ Driscoll ’ s interviews with Seamus Heaney , and the nearest we get to an autobiography of the poet , mentions little about St Columb ’ s and his time there .
This I have always found a puzzle since he spent six of his most formative years in the walled college on Bishop Street separated from family for periods of 9 weeks at a time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s ; Maurice Fitzpatrick ’ s book to accompany his TV documentary identifies Heaney among eight outstanding college alumni .
Fitzpatrick argues , correctly I believe , that St Columb ’ s powerfully influenced each of these young men and gave each an independence and unique strength of character that made them such powerful influences on others .
Heaney was never explicit about a “ St Columb ’ s Effect ” , and there is little evidence in his poetry that it significantly influenced him .
But Heaney recognised the seismic changes the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the “ North of Ireland ” .
For him the offer of a grammar school education would , singularly , make the difference to his subsequent career and international success .
An event marked indelibly on Heaney was the death of his younger brother Christopher and the inspiration for his poem Mid-Term Break .
Written long after leaving St Columb ’ s , the tragedy begins in the college “ sick bay ” a room all boarders knew as a refuge , a place of great succour in an otherwise emotionally sterile @ @ @ @ @ @ @ suffered his first stroke , he remembered that bell , rung from a ceiling-hanging rope just outside the sick bay where he waited that morning .
A senior boarder was tasked with bell ringing for class change , call to study and call to mass or rosary and Heaney , like all boarders , did it in his turn .
The regimentation inculcated into the young Heaney during his six years at St Columb ’ s is neatly book-ended here .
St Columb ’ s created a strong structural framework from which he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ creativity would amount to little without that framework , dull and boring as it might be .
It was this discipline that supported the fulsome creativity that would flow from Heaney in poetry and so many others of the college alumni ; Seamus Dean in literature , Paul Brady in music , Brian Friel in drama and John Hume in politics .
OK , Seamus Dean was not a boarder but John Hume was an “ honorary boarder ” .
Phil Coulter , for example , was a pop-showman something a boarder could @ @ @ @ @ @ @ day-to-day living for boarders , which off course was almost a seminary in Heaney ’ s time , was for those who complied with its rules and regulations , a comfortable and secure place to be .
St Columb ’ s cast a deep and prolonged spell on all those who boarded within it walls and enjoyed , or endured , its direction and its discipline .
It aspired learning and creativity but it kept us humble and self-effacing ; we did not get too big for our boots on our own behalf @ @ @ @ @ @ @ others .
Heaney ’ s discipline , his lack of showmanship – ironic for someone so famous – his attention to detail all stem from a culture that existed among St Columb ’ s boarders up to the time the college stopped boarding in 1976 .
Gravel Walks , a line from which adorns the poet ’ s grave at Bellaghy , speaks to this while not mentioning St Columb ’ s .
For those of us who came through that regimen it doesn ’ t have to .
St Columb ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ brought away from their stay and for this dull foundation , binding material we are eternally grateful .

One wintery evening in the early 1970s, a RTE film crew arrived at my boarding school, St Columb’s College on Bishop Street in Derry, to make a TV documentary. It was rare excitement in the boredom and routine that defined the boarders’ lives. The subject of the documentary was an ex-boarder, the poet Seamus Heaney. One scene involved an actor – or perhaps it was the poet himself –sneaking down the wrought-iron fire-escape attached to the grey-stoned gable of Senior House. With large arc lights challenging the darkness, cameras rolling and we, the blazered-bunch, watching on, he gingerly tip-toed from the top storey senior bedrooms past the apartments of the college president.
Stepping Stones, Denis O’Driscoll’s interviews with Seamus Heaney, and the nearest we get to an autobiography of the poet, mentions little about St Columb’s and his time there. This I have always found a puzzle since he spent six of his most formative years in the walled college on Bishop Street separated from family for periods of 9 weeks at a time.
The Boys of St Columb’s; Maurice Fitzpatrick’s book to accompany his TV documentary identifies Heaney among eight outstanding college alumni. Fitzpatrick argues, correctly I believe, that St Columb’s powerfully influenced each of these young men and gave each an independence and unique strength of character that made them such powerful influences on others.
Heaney was never explicit about a “St Columb’s Effect”, and there is little evidence in his poetry that it significantly influenced him. But Heaney recognised the seismic changes the 1948 Education Act brought for his generation in the “North of Ireland”. For him the offer of a grammar school education would, singularly, make the difference to his subsequent career and international success.
An event marked indelibly on Heaney was the death of his younger brother Christopher and the inspiration for his poem Mid-Term Break. Written long after leaving St Columb’s, the tragedy begins in the college “sick bay” a room all boarders knew as a refuge, a place of great succour in an otherwise emotionally sterile environment.
Years later, when Heaney suffered his first stroke, he remembered that bell, rung from a ceiling-hanging rope just outside the sick bay where he waited that morning. A senior boarder was tasked with bell ringing for class change, call to study and call to mass or rosary and Heaney, like all boarders, did it in his turn.
“Or the one I tolled in Derry in my turn As college bellman, the haul of it there still In the heel of my once capable/Warm hand…” “Chanson d’Aventure , 2010”
The regimentation inculcated into the young Heaney during his six years at St Columb’s is neatly book-ended here. St Columb’s created a strong structural framework from which he could be creative yet he knew this creativity would amount to little without that framework, dull and boring as it might be.
It was this discipline that supported the fulsome creativity that would flow from Heaney in poetry and so many others of the college alumni; Seamus Dean in literature, Paul Brady in music, Brian Friel in drama and John Hume in politics.
OK, Seamus Dean was not a boarder but John Hume was an “honorary boarder”. Phil Coulter, for example, was a pop-showman something a boarder could never be.
The dull routine of day-to-day living for boarders, which off course was almost a seminary in Heaney’s time, was for those who complied with its rules and regulations, a comfortable and secure place to be.
St Columb’s cast a deep and prolonged spell on all those who boarded within it walls and enjoyed, or endured, its direction and its discipline. It aspired learning and creativity but it kept us humble and self-effacing; we did not get too big for our boots on our own behalf we generally did that on behalf of others.
Heaney’s discipline, his lack of showmanship – ironic for someone so famous – his attention to detail all stem from a culture that existed among St Columb’s boarders up to the time the college stopped boarding in 1976.
Gravel Walks, a line from which adorns the poet’s grave at Bellaghy, speaks to this while not mentioning St Columb’s. For those of us who came through that regimen it doesn’t have to. St Columb’s was the “grey cement” boarders brought away from their stay and for this dull foundation, binding material we are eternally grateful.
“So walk on air against your better judgement Establishing yourself somewhere in between Those solid batches mixed with grey cement” “Gravel Walks”


sluggerotoole--2020-06-13--From Banana Republic to Boomtown Rodents and Celtic Tigers…

I watched a recent BBC documentary on the Boomtown Rats ( available on iPlayer for the next eleven months ) which wasn ’ t just your average bog-standard rockumentary , but also partly a commentary on how the once socially conservative , deeply religious , unemployment-riven Irish Republic ( a country many ambitious young people wanted to leave once they were old enough – Geldof and co included ) has changed beyond recognition since the band started plying their trade at the height of the punk scene back in the mid 1970s .
There was also a cursory nod to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Not short of the odd cliché or two , the film play on hyperbole to the extent that it would almost have us believe that the Rats were single-handedly responsible for this dramatic transformation .
There ’ s no denying that they did play a part – however small – in this social revolution .
As well as the appearances and eulogies from usual fellow musicians like Sting , Sinead O ’ Connor and predictably enough the ever-sanctimonious Bono , there were notably also contributions from eminent historians Roy Foster and Diarmuid @ @ @ @ @ @ @ changes we also had the transformation of the Irish music scene from the once predominant showbands and country singers like Joe Dolan and Big Tom & The Mainliners to a more youthful energetic vibe as bands like Thin Lizzy , and eventually , U2 rose to prominence .
The rock and roll scene which taken Britain by storm via America was – like many other modern phenomena – slow to materialise in Ireland… This was all a bit before my time , but some of Slugger ’ s more senior patrons will no @ @ @ @ @ @ @ period !
The cynic in me might say that Geldof and his bandmates were just a bunch of frustrated middle-class kids from Dun Laoghaire venting their anger by revelling in a manufactured bad boy image , now that they could easily attack their objects of contempt – ie the institutions of the Irish state – from a safe distance across the Irish Sea .
But of all their works the one song that captures the essence of the old Ireland they left behind all those years ago has to be Banana Republic : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shake their heads A silence shrieking volumes A violence worse than they condemn Stab you in the back yeah Laughing in your face Glad to see the place again It ’ s a pity nothing ’ s changed ” However as the documentary ended I wondered to myself whether it was really a subtly disguised plug for their new album ( this being the BBC it had to be subtle of course ) , given the timing of it and the fact that it shares its name with the album .
But then @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ The Boomtown Rats at Knott ’ s Berry Farm , 1981 ” by Orange County Archives is licensed under CC BY

I watched a recent BBC documentary on the Boomtown Rats (available on iPlayer for the next eleven months) which wasn’t just your average bog-standard rockumentary, but also partly a commentary on how the once socially conservative, deeply religious, unemployment-riven Irish Republic (a country many ambitious young people wanted to leave once they were old enough – Geldof and co included) has changed beyond recognition since the band started plying their trade at the height of the punk scene back in the mid 1970s. There was also a cursory nod to the nightmare was continually unfolding up north.
Not short of the odd cliché or two, the film play on hyperbole to the extent that it would almost have us believe that the Rats were single-handedly responsible for this dramatic transformation. There’s no denying that they did play a part – however small – in this social revolution. As well as the appearances and eulogies from usual fellow musicians like Sting, Sinead O’Connor and predictably enough the ever-sanctimonious Bono, there were notably also contributions from eminent historians Roy Foster and Diarmuid Ferriter.
In addition to the socio-political changes we also had the transformation of the Irish music scene from the once predominant showbands and country singers like Joe Dolan and Big Tom & The Mainliners to a more youthful energetic vibe as bands like Thin Lizzy, and eventually, U2 rose to prominence. The rock and roll scene which taken Britain by storm via America was – like many other modern phenomena – slow to materialise in Ireland…
This was all a bit before my time, but some of Slugger’s more senior patrons will no doubt have many interesting stories from this period!
The cynic in me might say that Geldof and his bandmates were just a bunch of frustrated middle-class kids from Dun Laoghaire venting their anger by revelling in a manufactured bad boy image, now that they could easily attack their objects of contempt – ie the institutions of the Irish state – from a safe distance across the Irish Sea.
But of all their works the one song that captures the essence of the old Ireland they left behind all those years ago has to be Banana Republic:
“The purple and the pinstripe
Mutely shake their heads
A silence shrieking volumes
A violence worse than they condemn
Stab you in the back yeah
Laughing in your face
Glad to see the place again
It’s a pity nothing’s changed”
(Geldof/Briquette)
However as the documentary ended I wondered to myself whether it was really a subtly disguised plug for their new album (this being the BBC it had to be subtle of course), given the timing of it and the fact that it shares its name with the album.
But then what the hell would I know?
“The Boomtown Rats at Knott’s Berry Farm, 1981” by Orange County Archives is licensed under CC BY


sluggerotoole--2020-06-13--Anti-racism must not become a new form of cultural oppression

Although from today we in England can create our own family bubble of different households , it ’ s still not too late to enter the lockdown confessional .
I am not for a moment about to challenge the central aims of Black Lives Matter , or persistent discrimination at work or even what seems to me to be the intractable problem of race as an identifier of knife crime suspects in stop and search .
I hope I ’ m sensitive to patronising and insulting ” micro oppression ” ( there ’ s a category term for everything ) @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Britain in the years before the Holocaust .
But.. and there is a but..
I understand the case but I ’ m finding it very hard to absorb the full monte of cultural anti-racism .
Twenty five years or so ago “ portrayal ” became one of the performance indicators by which the BBC judged itself .
It was part of a general movement .
It meant that programmes should reflect the society for which they were made .
This was not an entirely obvious point .
How was that obligation to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ very different society from our own ?
The solution lay in dismissing it as a problem so defined and adopting the solution to a different problem .
Black actors could never achieve equal opportunity in portraying a predominantly white heritage .
So women and men of colour ( in the required phrase not “ coloured men and women ” ) routinely began to be cast for Jane Austen or Dickensian roles anachronistically or began to be seen in positions of power and control without anyone batting an eyelid .
The BBC ‘ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ turned full circle by depicting a Europe conquered by Africans .
Could such a show have been made before Black Panther exploded lazy industry assumptions in 2018 ?
Certainly , some of that film ’ s Oscar-winning Afrofuturism is evident here , but it ’ s more than just brilliantly stylish design with political resonance .
The Africanised architecture ( shot mostly in South Africa ) , the way black faces feature on all the advertising hoardings and news channels , but especially the way Afrocentric beauty standards are so pervasive that even @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and braids – all this comes together to create an effect that is consistently jolting.. At a time when the absurdity of media “ debates ” on race reveals this country ’ s general lack of understanding , a show that so starkly demonstrates structural racism is revolutionary .
Because it ’ s not just about some pink plasters , is it ?
“ Jolting ” perhaps ; but we can take it .
On the other hand “ portrayal ” has meant that Laurence Olivier ’ s film of Shakespeare ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and hasn ’ t been shown for ages and may never be again .
It was controversial even in 1965 .
The development of language is relevant here .
What used to be “ blacking up ” has been categorised as an ideological pejorative “ blackface ” and weaponised for struggle .
At the same time gender fluidity has become a progressive cause .
I ’ ve just watched an RSC production of Romeo and Juliet in which Mercutio is played by a young woman whose punk femininity is emphasised by her bare @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who could object to Fiona Shaw as Richard 11 ?
In 1995 , Patrick Stewart came up with a novel solution with himself as a white Othello amid a cast of African Americans .
I ’ ve been imagining myself playing Othello and , in a sense , preparing for it , since I was about 14… .
When the time came that I was old enough and experienced enough to do it , it was the same time that it no longer became acceptable for a white actor to put on blackface @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of my hopes for this production is that it will continue to say what a conventional production of Othello would say about racism and prejudice… To replace the black outsider with a white man in a black society will , I hope , encourage a much broader view of the fundamentals of racism.
” Must white men be banned for ever from playing a black Othello or ethnic roles of any kind , while other ethnics are rightly free to choose and are totally accepted in any type of role ?
Why not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as he did , as a tribute to blackness ?
Here ’ s where I start digging .
When as I child I stuck gollywogs on the wall collected from Robertson ’ s jamjars or watched the Black and White Minstrel show , I never for a moment thought of them as being like real people any more than I thought a doll was a substitute for a child or Dangermouse has anything to do with space exploration or for that matter , mice .
“ Stereotyping ” is another one of those @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The better word here is “ caricature , ” but is not preferred as it might suggest acceptability .
“ Cultural appropriation ” is another categorical term that seeks to reserve a cultural characteristic exclusively to its origins .
Sometime during the early 2000s , big , gold , “ door-knocker ” hoop earrings started to appeal to me , after I ’ d admired them on girls at school .
It didn ’ t faze me that most of the girls who wore these earrings at my high school in St. @ @ @ @ @ @ @ And while it certainly may have occurred to me that I—a semi-preppy dresser—couldn ’ t pull them off , it never occurred to me that I shouldn ’ t .
This is taking to high road to cultural apartheid .
What the reasonable advocates are looking for – indeed demanding – is above all respect and equality .
Like any powerful movement this one has its rough edges .
Protests like mine are of no avail .
Lenny Henry ( a fine Othello himself ) uses his magnificent register to damn what is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ portrayal of ethnicity .
Mortal offence is taken at the likes of the Black and White Minstrel Show .
But was it really any different from diddly dee Irish or leprechauns – a matter of taste than principle ?
Quibbles like mine are confounded .
Yet I look forward to the time ( although I ’ ll hardly live long enough to see it ) when ethnicity is depicted interchangeably and equally , according to a writer ’ s fancy and the audience ’ s appreciation .

Laurence Oliver’s Othello ( 1965)
Although from today we in England can create our own family bubble of different households, it’s still not too late to enter the lockdown confessional. I am not for a moment about to challenge the central aims of Black Lives Matter, or persistent discrimination at work or even what seems to me to be the intractable problem of race as an identifier of knife crime suspects in stop and search. I hope I’m sensitive to patronising and insulting ” micro oppression” (there’s a category term for everything), which resembles the casual anti-semitism in Britain in the years before the Holocaust.
But.. and there is a but..
I understand the case but I’m finding it very hard to absorb the full monte of cultural anti-racism.
Twenty five years or so ago “portrayal” became one of the performance indicators by which the BBC judged itself. It was part of a general movement. It meant that programmes should reflect the society for which they were made. This was not an entirely obvious point. How was that obligation to be discharged when a programme was about a very different society from our own? The solution lay in dismissing it as a problem so defined and adopting the solution to a different problem. Black actors could never achieve equal opportunity in portraying a predominantly white heritage. So women and men of colour ( in the required phrase not “coloured men and women”) routinely began to be cast for Jane Austen or Dickensian roles anachronistically or began to be seen in positions of power and control without anyone batting an eyelid. The BBC‘s recent race reversal drama Noughts and Crosses turned full circle by depicting a Europe conquered by Africans.
The Guardian’s reviewer wrote:
Could such a show have been made before Black Panther exploded lazy industry assumptions in 2018? Certainly, some of that film’s Oscar-winning Afrofuturism is evident here, but it’s more than just brilliantly stylish design with political resonance. The Africanised architecture (shot mostly in South Africa), the way black faces feature on all the advertising hoardings and news channels, but especially the way Afrocentric beauty standards are so pervasive that even white characters wear their hair in locs and braids – all this comes together to create an effect that is consistently jolting.. At a time when the absurdity of media “debates” on race reveals this country’s general lack of understanding, a show that so starkly demonstrates structural racism is revolutionary. Because it’s not just about some pink plasters, is it?
“Jolting” perhaps; but we can take it.
On the other hand “portrayal” has meant that Laurence Olivier’s film of Shakespeare’s Othello is damned as “blackface “and hasn’t been shown for ages and may never be again. It was controversial even in 1965. The development of language is relevant here. What used to be “blacking up” has been categorised as an ideological pejorative “blackface” and weaponised for struggle. At the same time gender fluidity has become a progressive cause. I’ve just watched an RSC production of Romeo and Juliet in which Mercutio is played by a young woman whose punk femininity is emphasised by her bare midriff and sparkly sports bra. And who could object to Fiona Shaw as Richard 11? In 1995, Patrick Stewart came up with a novel solution with himself as a white Othello amid a cast of African Americans.
I’ve been imagining myself playing Othello and, in a sense, preparing for it, since I was about 14…. When the time came that I was old enough and experienced enough to do it, it was the same time that it no longer became acceptable for a white actor to put on blackface and pretend to be African. One of my hopes for this production is that it will continue to say what a conventional production of Othello would say about racism and prejudice… To replace the black outsider with a white man in a black society will, I hope, encourage a much broader view of the fundamentals of racism.”
Must white men be banned for ever from playing a black Othello or ethnic roles of any kind, while other ethnics are rightly free to choose and are totally accepted in any type of role? Why not think of Olivier’s powerful performance as he did, as a tribute to blackness?
Here’s where I start digging. When as I child I stuck gollywogs on the wall collected from Robertson’s jamjars or watched the Black and White Minstrel show, I never for a moment thought of them as being like real people any more than I thought a doll was a substitute for a child or Dangermouse has anything to do with space exploration or for that matter, mice. “Stereotyping” is another one of those categorising words that is itself a stereotype. The better word here is “caricature,” but is not preferred as it might suggest acceptability.
“Cultural appropriation” is another categorical term that seeks to reserve a cultural characteristic exclusively to its origins.
Sometime during the early 2000s, big, gold, “door-knocker” hoop earrings started to appeal to me, after I’d admired them on girls at school. It didn’t faze me that most of the girls who wore these earrings at my high school in St. Louis were black, unlike me. And while it certainly may have occurred to me that I—a semi-preppy dresser—couldn’t pull them off, it never occurred to me that I shouldn’t.
This is taking to high road to cultural apartheid.
What the reasonable advocates are looking for – indeed demanding – is above all respect and equality. Like any powerful movement this one has its rough edges.
Protests like mine are of no avail. Lenny Henry (a fine Othello himself) uses his magnificent register to damn what is widely seen as the racist and demeaning portrayal of ethnicity. Mortal offence is taken at the likes of the Black and White Minstrel Show. But was it really any different from diddly dee Irish or leprechauns – a matter of taste than principle?
Quibbles like mine are confounded. Yet I look forward to the time (although I’ll hardly live long enough to see it) when ethnicity is depicted interchangeably and equally, according to a writer’s fancy and the audience’s appreciation.


sluggerotoole--2020-06-14--Dementia and my family…

Dementia and my family…

It ’ s impossible to pinpoint the moment my father began to suffer from dementia .
Nobody in the family questioned any momentary lapses of memory from time to time and even when these became more frequent I don ’ t think any of us really understood the significance of what was happening .
Certainly , that word dementia was far from our thoughts at that stage .
When dad retired he and mum had gone to live in a small Fermanagh village close to where dad had been brought up , the youngest in a family of ten children @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the countryside and took delight in taking walks with Daisy his collie dog , happily passing the time of day with anyone who had a mind to .
Fermanagh was often wet and cold but he was content to have gone back to his roots .
It was his idea of what retirement should be – living in a place he loved , with someone he loved , and having the time to enjoy it .
Sadly , his contentment was short-lived .
The first time I ever heard the word dementia mentioned @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he was hospitalised after a TIA ( Transient Ischaemic Attack ) .
As a layperson , I was unfamiliar with the medical jargon but quickly realised that dad had suffered a mini-stroke .
He was to suffer more in the course of his illness .
It seemed that the problem stemmed from the carotid artery being ‘ furred up ’ and restricting the blood supply to the brain .
The neurologist told me that aside from this , my dad ’ s brain was shrinking and there was little they could do about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
People joke about it .
Remarks about dotty old aunts , going cuckoo and being demented are all commonplace .
It ’ s always easy to mock when something doesn ’ t affect you personally .
I don ’ t find it that funny anymore .
When dad returned home from the hospital he understood the explanations that had been given to him by the medical profession .
At the time neither he , nor us , had any idea about how the disease would progress .
Mum and dad had been @ @ @ @ @ @ @ always had a loving relationship built on mutual trust and respect .
I can ’ t recall ever witnessing them having an argument .
But gradually you could see that mum was doing that little bit more for dad and he was becoming that bit more reliant on her .
You could tell that the balance of their relationship was changing .
I had always found in my own life that during a crisis I coped better if I educated myself about the matter in hand .
When I was diagnosed with cancer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ subject and it helped me enormously during and after my treatment .
It was no different with my father ’ s illness .
I learned , surprisingly , that dementia comes in different forms .
Alzheimer ’ s is the most well known but there are others like multi-infarct dementia which is what dad had .
Instead of a gradual decline in his health , the illness progressed in a stepwise fashion which , to me anyway , was the cruellest blow of all .
With each downward step , dad seemed to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which was tragically the loss of that bright and alert mind of his .
My mum coped so well for so long .
Like many carers , she just got on with the job of looking after someone she loved .
She never complained although I ’ m sure there were times when she could easily have given up .
But as the months went by and her husband ’ s condition accelerated , the emotional and physical toll on my mother became increasingly obvious .
Ultimately it became impossible for her to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ about the future .
With the help of Social Services dad was accepted into a special unit for Elderly Mentally Infirm patients ( EMI ) in Lisnaskea .
It was the most wonderful caring place where dad would receive both kindness and compassion in equal measure .
The staff in any old people ’ s home has their work cut out for them and not everyone could do their job .
I don ’ t think I could .
Dad was a genuinely good person all his life and even though he had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he always remained considerate and polite .
When I visited him he would inevitably greet me with a smile and the staff would always remark on how kind and co-operative he was .
The EMI unit itself was a clean , no frills sort of place which , above all , was a completely safe environment for its residents .
In my dad ’ s simple room with a bed , chair and a few personal items strewn about , I began to realise how little material things really matter .
It would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ had the surroundings been plush , extravagant and expensive .
What mattered most was the compassion that painted the walls not the decor .
Gradually dad began to go further and further away from us .
They say that you can tell a lot from someone ’ s eyes and it ’ s true because when I looked into my father ’ s eyes he wasn ’ t always there anymore .
I did not realise it then but now I believe that this was the point I began to grieve for my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lost someone when they are still alive is hard to come to terms with .
For me visits were becoming more and more distressing .
I did not enjoy seeing so many other poor souls in the unit living in that same mental prison that had also incarcerated my father .
It was a stressful and difficult time and I was torn between wanting my father to stay alive and wanting him to pass away so that his suffering would be over .
It is something that perhaps many people think but do @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , I knew that dad had actually been lost to us several years before when senile dementia had first taken its hold upon his mind .
Daddy died several years ago now and I miss him still .
But over recent months , witnessing the debacle that ’ s occurred around our care homes across the country with coronavirus , I ’ m relieved that he did not survive to experience such injustices and indignities himself .
Where has our humanity disappeared to when the elderly ( with or without dementia ) are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by the government ?
So many families are suffering and all I can hope for is that they can find a kind of peace in knowing that their loved ones are themselves now , at least , at peace .
Photo by jplenio is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA

It’s impossible to pinpoint the moment my father began to suffer from dementia. Nobody in the family questioned any momentary lapses of memory from time to time and even when these became more frequent I don’t think any of us really understood the significance of what was happening. Certainly, that word dementia was far from our thoughts at that stage.
When dad retired he and mum had gone to live in a small Fermanagh village close to where dad had been brought up, the youngest in a family of ten children. He had a great love of the countryside and took delight in taking walks with Daisy his collie dog, happily passing the time of day with anyone who had a mind to. Fermanagh was often wet and cold but he was content to have gone back to his roots. It was his idea of what retirement should be – living in a place he loved, with someone he loved, and having the time to enjoy it. Sadly, his contentment was short-lived.
The first time I ever heard the word dementia mentioned in relation to my father was when he was hospitalised after a TIA (Transient Ischaemic Attack). As a layperson, I was unfamiliar with the medical jargon but quickly realised that dad had suffered a mini-stroke. He was to suffer more in the course of his illness. It seemed that the problem stemmed from the carotid artery being ‘furred up’ and restricting the blood supply to the brain. The neurologist told me that aside from this, my dad’s brain was shrinking and there was little they could do about it. Then that word – dementia.
People joke about it. Remarks about dotty old aunts, going cuckoo and being demented are all commonplace. It’s always easy to mock when something doesn’t affect you personally. I don’t find it that funny anymore.
When dad returned home from the hospital he understood the explanations that had been given to him by the medical profession. At the time neither he, nor us, had any idea about how the disease would progress. Mum and dad had been married for nearly fifty years and had always had a loving relationship built on mutual trust and respect. I can’t recall ever witnessing them having an argument. But gradually you could see that mum was doing that little bit more for dad and he was becoming that bit more reliant on her. You could tell that the balance of their relationship was changing.
I had always found in my own life that during a crisis I coped better if I educated myself about the matter in hand. When I was diagnosed with cancer I read every available book on the subject and it helped me enormously during and after my treatment. It was no different with my father’s illness. I learned, surprisingly, that dementia comes in different forms. Alzheimer’s is the most well known but there are others like multi-infarct dementia which is what dad had. Instead of a gradual decline in his health, the illness progressed in a stepwise fashion which, to me anyway, was the cruellest blow of all. With each downward step, dad seemed to have an awareness of what was happening which was tragically the loss of that bright and alert mind of his.
My mum coped so well for so long. Like many carers, she just got on with the job of looking after someone she loved. She never complained although I’m sure there were times when she could easily have given up. But as the months went by and her husband’s condition accelerated, the emotional and physical toll on my mother became increasingly obvious. Ultimately it became impossible for her to cope and decisions had to be made about the future. With the help of Social Services dad was accepted into a special unit for Elderly Mentally Infirm patients (EMI) in Lisnaskea. It was the most wonderful caring place where dad would receive both kindness and compassion in equal measure. The staff in any old people’s home has their work cut out for them and not everyone could do their job. I don’t think I could.
Dad was a genuinely good person all his life and even though he had a disease that affected his mind, he always remained considerate and polite. When I visited him he would inevitably greet me with a smile and the staff would always remark on how kind and co-operative he was. The EMI unit itself was a clean, no frills sort of place which, above all, was a completely safe environment for its residents. In my dad’s simple room with a bed, chair and a few personal items strewn about, I began to realise how little material things really matter. It would have made not one button of difference had the surroundings been plush, extravagant and expensive. What mattered most was the compassion that painted the walls not the decor.
Gradually dad began to go further and further away from us. They say that you can tell a lot from someone’s eyes and it’s true because when I looked into my father’s eyes he wasn’t always there anymore. I did not realise it then but now I believe that this was the point I began to grieve for my father and that feeling of having already lost someone when they are still alive is hard to come to terms with.
For me visits were becoming more and more distressing. I did not enjoy seeing so many other poor souls in the unit living in that same mental prison that had also incarcerated my father. It was a stressful and difficult time and I was torn between wanting my father to stay alive and wanting him to pass away so that his suffering would be over. It is something that perhaps many people think but do not freely admit to. Realistically though, I knew that dad had actually been lost to us several years before when senile dementia had first taken its hold upon his mind.
Daddy died several years ago now and I miss him still. But over recent months, witnessing the debacle that’s occurred around our care homes across the country with coronavirus, I’m relieved that he did not survive to experience such injustices and indignities himself. Where has our humanity disappeared to when the elderly (with or without dementia) are seemingly treated like they are an afterthought by the government? So many families are suffering and all I can hope for is that they can find a kind of peace in knowing that their loved ones are themselves now, at least, at peace.
Photo by jplenio is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA


sluggerotoole--2020-06-14--Is time an illusion?

Is time an illusion?

For most of May with its spectacularly premature good weather , I was in t-shirt and shorts .
Then In the first week of June after temperatures plummeted , I suddenly found myself under leaden skies wearing three layers of clothing including a fleece .
It ’ s as if time is going backwards .
But , in these crazy days , we ’ re now living in time has come to a sort a standstill .
We ’ re still getting older of course , but it seems as if every day is the same .
I have a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ new normal ” if you like – or whatever BS phrase the marketing executives or hacks have come up with today .
The monotony of my average working-from-home day now is broken by regular walks to the local Tesco Express – wearing my home-made face mask crudely cannibalised from an old t-shirt which makes me look like a bandit from a cheesy western – and a daily run around the local park – sometimes in a zig-zag fashion in order to maintain my social distancing .
“ We want to feel time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ want to write it off .
We don ’ t want to lose a summer that we ’ ll never get back .
we don ’ t want to do time ; we don ’ t want to be inside .
We want to live ” .
For many of us there is now little delineation between the various days of the week .
Tuesdays are no different from Thursdays .
No longer do I have my weekly five-a-side football on Wednesday nights , nor the usual Friday post-work pub meet-up with colleagues @ @ @ @ @ @ @ etc – I ’ m sure you get the picture .
We now live in the age of Virtual Pub quizzes and virtual birthday parties on Zoom , office meetings via Microsoft Teams ( other online applications are available ) , re-runs of old football matches on TV and countless other clichés I can ’ t be bothered to list .
But one day the so-called “ new normal ” will no longer be new normal .
It will no doubt be replaced by a newer normal .
And so on… “ Time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ licensed under CC BY-ND

For most of May with its spectacularly premature good weather, I was in t-shirt and shorts. Then In the first week of June after temperatures plummeted, I suddenly found myself under leaden skies wearing three layers of clothing including a fleece. It’s as if time is going backwards. But, in these crazy days, we’re now living in time has come to a sort a standstill. We’re still getting older of course, but it seems as if every day is the same.
I have a new daily routine. Call it the “new normal” if you like – or whatever BS phrase the marketing executives or hacks have come up with today. The monotony of my average working-from-home day now is broken by regular walks to the local Tesco Express – wearing my home-made face mask crudely cannibalised from an old t-shirt which makes me look like a bandit from a cheesy western – and a daily run around the local park – sometimes in a zig-zag fashion in order to maintain my social distancing.
Jonathan Friedland encapsulates this concept perfectly in a recent Guardian article.
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/apr/24/lockdown-time-coronavirus-prisoners
“We want to feel time is precious; we don’t want to write it off. We don’t want to lose a summer that we’ll never get back. we don’t want to do time; we don’t want to be inside. We want to live”.
For many of us there is now little delineation between the various days of the week. Tuesdays are no different from Thursdays. No longer do I have my weekly five-a-side football on Wednesday nights, nor the usual Friday post-work pub meet-up with colleagues, no Saturday morning park runs, etc – I’m sure you get the picture.
We now live in the age of Virtual Pub quizzes and virtual birthday parties on Zoom, office meetings via Microsoft Teams (other online applications are available), re-runs of old football matches on TV and countless other clichés I can’t be bothered to list.
But one day the so-called “new normal” will no longer be new normal. It will no doubt be replaced by a newer normal. And so on…
“Time is Slipping Away” by Bennilover is licensed under CC BY-ND


sluggerotoole--2020-06-14--More musings from a beekeeper in lockdown…

It ’ s hot .
I ’ m out watering my new plants at 7am in shorts and t-shirt .
The garden is dying of thirst and after such a wet winter this prolonged lack of rain is going to be equally difficult for the farmers .
But this weather is glorious .
The honeysuckle , that my husband said would never grow , has extended by at least 30cm and will need attached to the wall soon .
My lavender , old and new , are doing well and the fuchsias have bloomed to the most beautiful salmon and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ surge when I think how much the bees will enjoy these treats next year .
The certainty of another spring is something to cling to when the world is so unstable .
I ’ m learning that gardening is care , a commitment of time and attention .
This spring I ’ ve discovered nooks and crannies in our garden that I didn ’ t know existed .
Our hives sit in full view at the edge of our front garden , and yet most people don ’ t even notice them .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ you keep your hives ?
’ Always shocked at the times they ’ ve passed them unnoticed .
My hive is basking in a pool of early morning golden sun and I count fifteen bees .
I ’ m surprised they ’ ve started work so early .
I feel a bud of pride for their work ethic .
The tulips at the front of the hive have been replaced by a clump of bright yellow buttercups .
I take a picture of my sunshine hive and google if buttercups are good for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a new flower app on my phone , I can now learn the names of what I see .
I know a buttercup .
I don ’ t need the app for that .
I make a mental note to sit with the bees later , I haven ’ t done that for days .
I fill up their water and leave them to it .
If I ’ m lucky I have an hour before the youngest stirs and the day takes on the rhythm of home-school , lunch , cleaning and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ children .
I ’ m still reading the parenting book , though I ’ ve skipped most of the pregnancy and baby sections – it ’ s too late for me to change any of that now .
The author says the book is not meant to make parents feel bad about how they may have already parented .
How else can you feel when told you ’ ve already done it wrong ?
It ’ s parental self-harm .
I don ’ t know why I ’ m reading it .
My @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , why am I ?
It describes a baby ’ s parental attachment and how distressing it is for this to be broken .
The author states , ‘ a baby is not an animal to be trained.
’ She advises exhausted parents to see to babies no matter how many times a night , or day they cry .
The book irks and itches my current need to get away from my own grown babies .
Conflicted feelings of guilt , privilege and frustration swirl inside me on a daily basis .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ away from it .
I may not pick it up again .
After lunch , I keep the promise I made to myself at 7am and I go out to the hive .
The grass is so dry I ’ m able to sit directly on it .
I can ’ t remember the last time it was possible to sit on Irish grass and not receive a wet bum .
I cross my legs like a child at assembly and the blades of grass tickle the bare skin of my shin .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ have brought a hat , or sunglasses , but I won ’ t go back inside – I ’ ll only get embroiled in the latest spat between the boys or distracted by some domestic task .
I cup my hands over the top of my eyes to shade them .
I watch .
Bee by flying bee my petulant distemper , my irksome list of chores , my tiredness , my rage against the world slips away as I study my flying jellybeans .
The traffic noise of a world back in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ fence is distracting , but soon I zone out of it too .
Next year we plan to move the hives to the back garden beside the new ‘ wildlife pond.
’ It ’ ll be quieter there .
I pull my distracted mind back to the present moment .
Where are they going today ?
There doesn ’ t seem to be any pattern to it .
They come and go in bursts ; one minute the hive entrance is a flurry of bees , the next it quietens down , as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ system .
I try to untangle the knot of bees hovering at the hive entrance , but I can ’ t .
I don ’ t even know if they are coming or going .
They are swirling about the hive in a bee tornado .
I attempt to follow one , it swirls about the hive several times , then it flies higher and I lose it against the brightness of the sun .
They look happy .
It must be great to fly around on a day like this .
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ queen , inside the dark hive restricted to a life of egg laying , never having the heat of the sun on her wings .
I imagine her inside , cossetted and pampered , wishing she was free like a normal bee .
It ’ s time to check my bees again !
It ’ s hot .
I hope they ’ re not in stinging form , I ’ m only wearing shorts and t-shirt underneath my suit .
My husband is helping the teenager with the ‘ wildlife pond ’ and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ soon as I lift off the top super it ’ s a disaster .
My bees have added extra comb to the bottom of some frames which means they stick to frames in the bottom super .
When I lift the top super off , three frames from the bottom super come too .
They dangle , laden with bees and honey , then drop off onto the grass .
A whoosh of angry bees fly up into the air and a load of dishevelled bees pile on the grass at my feet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
I ’ m struggling to hold the heavy super alone .
The wet of stressed sweat gathers in my armpits and at the base of my neck .
I singe the air with the heat of my cursing .
I set the super down and begin to pick up the dropped frames apologising to the bees as I go .
I ’ m careful with my feet so as not to stand on the bees on the grass .
I don ’ t understand why they don ’ t fly off instead @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
I scrape the offending honeycomb from the frames and replace them in the bottom super .
After a couple of minutes order is restored .
I feel a sense of achievment that I managed the situation on my own .
In the meantime my smoker has gone out .
The bees are still a bit miffed at being thrown around , but things feel more under control .
I don ’ t bother with the hassle of relighting it .
I complete my checks of the brood box .
There ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ both are empty .
My earlier debacle is forgotten when I spot my first waggle dance !
The bee is vigorously vibrating herself while walking in a figure of eight circle .
It ’ s a wonderful bee samba .
This is how the foragers tell other workers where to find the best pollen and nectar .
Her body vibrates in the direction the other bees should fly in order to find it .
Bee communication is intricate and continual .
It ’ s a marvel to watch their silent , efficient conversation @ @ @ @ @ @ @ confusion , it must be united and whole .
The world would be much improved if humans were better at communicating .
Photo by Myriams-Fotos is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA

29th May 2020
It’s hot. I’m out watering my new plants at 7am in shorts and t-shirt. The garden is dying of thirst and after such a wet winter this prolonged lack of rain is going to be equally difficult for the farmers. But this weather is glorious. The honeysuckle, that my husband said would never grow, has extended by at least 30cm and will need attached to the wall soon. My lavender, old and new, are doing well and the fuchsias have bloomed to the most beautiful salmon and hot pink colours. My dopamine levels surge when I think how much the bees will enjoy these treats next year. The certainty of another spring is something to cling to when the world is so unstable. I’m learning that gardening is care, a commitment of time and attention. This spring I’ve discovered nooks and crannies in our garden that I didn’t know existed. Our hives sit in full view at the edge of our front garden, and yet most people don’t even notice them. Many friends ask, ‘where do you keep your hives?’ Always shocked at the times they’ve passed them unnoticed.
My hive is basking in a pool of early morning golden sun and I count fifteen bees. I’m surprised they’ve started work so early. I feel a bud of pride for their work ethic. The tulips at the front of the hive have been replaced by a clump of bright yellow buttercups. I take a picture of my sunshine hive and google if buttercups are good for bees. They are. I have a new flower app on my phone, I can now learn the names of what I see. I know a buttercup. I don’t need the app for that. I make a mental note to sit with the bees later, I haven’t done that for days. I fill up their water and leave them to it.
If I’m lucky I have an hour before the youngest stirs and the day takes on the rhythm of home-school, lunch, cleaning and an afternoon of work interrupted by arguing children. I’m still reading the parenting book, though I’ve skipped most of the pregnancy and baby sections – it’s too late for me to change any of that now. The author says the book is not meant to make parents feel bad about how they may have already parented. How else can you feel when told you’ve already done it wrong? It’s parental self-harm. I don’t know why I’m reading it. My husband has never read a parenting book, why am I? It describes a baby’s parental attachment and how distressing it is for this to be broken. The author states, ‘a baby is not an animal to be trained.’ She advises exhausted parents to see to babies no matter how many times a night, or day they cry. The book irks and itches my current need to get away from my own grown babies. Conflicted feelings of guilt, privilege and frustration swirl inside me on a daily basis. I put down the book and step away from it. I may not pick it up again.
After lunch, I keep the promise I made to myself at 7am and I go out to the hive. The grass is so dry I’m able to sit directly on it. I can’t remember the last time it was possible to sit on Irish grass and not receive a wet bum. I cross my legs like a child at assembly and the blades of grass tickle the bare skin of my shin. The sun is strong. I should have brought a hat, or sunglasses, but I won’t go back inside – I’ll only get embroiled in the latest spat between the boys or distracted by some domestic task. I cup my hands over the top of my eyes to shade them. I watch. Bee by flying bee my petulant distemper, my irksome list of chores, my tiredness, my rage against the world slips away as I study my flying jellybeans. The traffic noise of a world back in motion on the other side of the fence is distracting, but soon I zone out of it too. Next year we plan to move the hives to the back garden beside the new ‘wildlife pond.’ It’ll be quieter there. I pull my distracted mind back to the present moment. Where are they going today? There doesn’t seem to be any pattern to it. They come and go in bursts; one minute the hive entrance is a flurry of bees, the next it quietens down, as if there is an internal traffic light system. I try to untangle the knot of bees hovering at the hive entrance, but I can’t. I don’t even know if they are coming or going. They are swirling about the hive in a bee tornado. I attempt to follow one, it swirls about the hive several times, then it flies higher and I lose it against the brightness of the sun. They look happy. It must be great to fly around on a day like this. I feel a pang of anguish for the queen, inside the dark hive restricted to a life of egg laying, never having the heat of the sun on her wings. I imagine her inside, cossetted and pampered, wishing she was free like a normal bee.
1st June
It’s time to check my bees again! It’s hot. I hope they’re not in stinging form, I’m only wearing shorts and t-shirt underneath my suit. My husband is helping the teenager with the ‘wildlife pond’ and so I go it alone. As soon as I lift off the top super it’s a disaster. My bees have added extra comb to the bottom of some frames which means they stick to frames in the bottom super. When I lift the top super off, three frames from the bottom super come too. They dangle, laden with bees and honey, then drop off onto the grass. A whoosh of angry bees fly up into the air and a load of dishevelled bees pile on the grass at my feet. Frames of bees are lying everywhere. I’m struggling to hold the heavy super alone. The wet of stressed sweat gathers in my armpits and at the base of my neck. I singe the air with the heat of my cursing. I set the super down and begin to pick up the dropped frames apologising to the bees as I go. I’m careful with my feet so as not to stand on the bees on the grass. I don’t understand why they don’t fly off instead of crawling around dangerously under my boots. I scrape the offending honeycomb from the frames and replace them in the bottom super. After a couple of minutes order is restored. I feel a sense of achievment that I managed the situation on my own.
In the meantime my smoker has gone out. The bees are still a bit miffed at being thrown around, but things feel more under control. I don’t bother with the hassle of relighting it. I complete my checks of the brood box. There’s a couple of queen cups, but both are empty. My earlier debacle is forgotten when I spot my first waggle dance! The bee is vigorously vibrating herself while walking in a figure of eight circle. It’s a wonderful bee samba. This is how the foragers tell other workers where to find the best pollen and nectar. Her body vibrates in the direction the other bees should fly in order to find it. Bee communication is intricate and continual. It’s a marvel to watch their silent, efficient conversation. A colony cannot operate in confusion, it must be united and whole.
I think:
The world would be much improved if humans were better at communicating.
Photo by Myriams-Fotos is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA