Some Stuff that Happened the Last Few Days

Tennessee Returns Hillary and Huckabee
I was literally made to apologize for this in my history course, when my history professor brought up "The Right Reverend Huckabee" and my home state. Its a bit embarrassing, really, knowing that we vote for people based on their spiritual credentials above their political ones. I don't actually have numbers to back this up, but just giving the electoral map a once-over, it looks like the Huckabee states correlate strongly with states that rank low in education.
Then, of course, there's Billary. It's puzzling to note that a state which saw Harold Ford lose a close race to Bob Corker doesn't show better for Obama. From now on I'm telling people I'm from Illinois.
Interestingly, people here don't think there are any real Republicans, and can't fathom a Republican victory in '08. Non-Democrats only barely qualify as human beings. The reason is they look at the current administration in all its horrific glory, see how bad the opinion polls are, and in a parliamentary system of government like they're used to, the Prime Minister would be resigning soon and the party in power would be calling emergency meetings about whether they should rethink their entire manifesto or just dissolve completely. They don't understand that just because a reckless juggernaut of groupthink and cronyism has crashed our executive branch for the past seven years, doesn't necessarily spell doom and gloom for the whole party. Not that I'm predicting a Republican victory, but I think it's foolish to rule it out.

Tornadoes Ravage Tennessee
Yes, this had something to do with the primary results. Thoughts go out to people who lost property and/or friends, and to Carolyn Negley, who goes to Union University. It takes things like this to remind you not to take things for granted. These storms are also one of the key reasons that I'd like my future home to be a fortress, with a bunker.

Tennessee Ravages Florida, 104 - 82
Until the last 10 minutes, this wasn't a pleasant game to watch. Once again, Tennessee got out to an early deficit and had to battle back against both Florida and an officiating crew that believed the 20-something thousand fans who came to Thompson-Boling Arena that night had paid to see them blow whistles.
It was a special night for Florida's #21, Dan Werner. Werner officially joined the Galactic Wankers' All-Star Team when he hacked JP Prince down in a shameless, indefensible manner. I only wish that JP Prince was Roy Keane, because if he was he would end Werner's career during the rematch with a bone-splintering kick to the knee.

Martin Ferris
On Wednesday I had the privilege of meeting Martin Ferris, Teachta Daila (TD) for Kerry North and former IRA gun-runner and prisoner. He did three terms in prison for around a dozen years, going on hunger strike at one point. His last stint was for attempting to bring several tons of weapons, explosives, and ammunition into Ireland via a fishing boat. It's often speculated that, prior to the IRA's decision to end its armed campaign, Ferris served on the IRA Army Council along with Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness.
IES brought Martin in to talk to their Peace and Conflict Studies kids, and I found out and got their permission to sit in on it. He was more frank than I thought he would be, considering he's a politician now, about his paramilitary background. In his talk he went through the entire course of the Troubles, with some personal anecdotes thrown in and then answered our questions for a while.
I found him very sincere and personable. He balanced his dedication to his cause with tacit statements about tolerance for other persuasions, especially Unionists, and warnings that violent acts are never justifiable when another course of action is possible, as seen now in the current government of Northern Ireland.
I asked him two questions, the first about the arms shipment that landed him in jail and what kind of advantage it would have given the IRA. He told me, strikingly, that while the weapons would have been a welcome boost, the real weapon was the knowledge and resolve in the minds of he and other IRA Volunteers. For example, he illustrated, if I bought him a few household items from nearby stores, he could make a 2-ton fertilizer bomb that would smoke a few city blocks. I also asked him what kinds of strategies were in place in the current situation of peace and government that were moving us toward a united Ireland. His answer was a list of detailed technical stuff about all-Ireland institutions and so forth that aren't worth reproducing here.
It's always nice to meet someone you've read about in books. I get to do that fairly often here.

In Other News
The rest of the guys went to Amsterdam this weekend. I'm just hoping they all get back in one piece. In case you were wondering, I can lift 13 stones on the quad machine. Yeah, I don't know how much it is either. I just know I can lift 13 of them. Rugby jerseys are 100 euro. Lots of nice games coming up this weekend and possibly a day trip or two.

This Weekend in Sports

Watching sports was about all I did this weekend. There was rugby, basketball, soccer, and football. Of course, there were also random bouts of homework, sleep, and drinking. This weekend began the Six Nations Rugby Tournament between England, France, Italy, Wales, Ireland and Scotland. Ireland didn't do so well in the Rugby World Cup this summer, which has given everyone some sort of complex and made this tournament of vital importance to the national honor. Sam, Nicole, and I went down to The Barge to catch the rugby matches on Saturday.

Ireland 16 - 11 Italy
This was not a good result, despite what you may think. Italy are apparently the whipping-boy of this tournament, and as previously mentioned there was a lot riding on this game. I saw interviews with people on the street leaving Croke Park, and the words "ghastly" and "rubbish" were used in excess. More than one fan called for the sacking of the manager. I can say that after watching Munster (a province of Ireland) dismantle Wasps in the Heineken Cup (a club tournament), and given the fact that Munster's players feature heavily in Ireland's squad, I expected to see more quality, but the players just didn't have the same individual performances. Ireland has a tough game next weekend away at France. Expect more calls for blood over this one.

England 19 - 26 Wales
Wales had not won at Twickenham, England's rugby ground, in twenty years. England's kicker, an integral position that scores most of the points in the match because they take frequent penalty kicks and conversion kicks, is Jonny Wilkinson, one of the most famous rugby players in the world. Ironically, it was Wales' kicker, James Hook, who won it for Wales by never missing a kick. England seem a bit off-form from finishing second in the Rugby World Cup.

Scotland 6 - 27 France
This game was a national disaster in Scotland. Some had them picked to win, and as the scoreline suggests they completely had themselves. France, who had a very successful World Cup run, changed their squad quite a bit and appear to have done so wisely. Not much else to say here other than that Scotland need to sort themselves out.

Manchester United 1 - 1 Tottenham Hotspur
This match was on on one screen in the pub we were watching rugby in. Every few minutes I would run down the stairs and catch a few minutes, then run back. There were a group of Indians and old men wearing red who were watching this game, one of whom would gesture and curse violently, as United were complete crap until the last ten minutes. After conceding a goal on a defensive disaster, United failed to connect passes or coordinate any attack to speak of. Only a late flurry, culminating in a 93rd minute equalizer on a corner-kick, leveled the score. Strangely, as bad as we looked, when I saw Van Der Sar come out of goal for the corner, I had an odd feeling that we would punch it in. We made a racket after the goal. Lucky we did, as Arsenal have re-taken the lead and will be unlikely to drop points anytime soon.

Tennessee 76 - 71 Mississippi State
This was a rather frustrating game to watch, much less to stay up for. After overcoming an opening barrage by MSU, we built up a 17-pt lead. Our 3-point shooting was frighteningly good, and we were responding well to MSU's highly rated defense. Then, as the second half started to wind down, State decided to start throwing up 3's with reckless abandon.
It's something I'd like to call the "Patrick Lazear Strategy." For those of you who don't know Patrick, my good friend of a past age who now goes to UK, he was able to merge two of his favorite things - basketball and lazy fatalism. According to Daniel, who used to play against Patrick's team in a YMCA league, when Patrick's team, for which he accounted roughly 75% of the points, got down by a large margin, Patrick would stand at half court, refuse to play defense, receive the first pass of his team's possession, and throw up a 3-point shot. All the while ignoring the screamed threats of his mother (also the coach), to take him out.
Realizing they had little chance to win by conventional means, the Devil-may-care Bulldogs simply started throwing up any three ball they could squeeze off, and, probably by virtue of the Devil, they all went in. Suddenly, after something like a 24-9 run, our lead had blown away like the topsoil of the central United States in the late 1920s. When legendarily awful free-throw shooter Wayne Chism bricked his first foul shot in the closing minutes, all looked lost. However, largely thanks to some clutch fouls shots by Jordan Howell and a pathetic traveling penalty by an MSU freshman, we came away with the win.
We need to learn not to take our foot off the gas, but its hard to know what to do when Satan is guiding the hands of the opposing team's shooters.

Giants 17 - 14 Patriots
Last night was a riot in more ways than one. We had a few dozen people over to our apartment for a shindig, as our apartment is bigger than everyone else's. Somewhat nonsensically, we cleaned up the place diligently before the party, only to have it completely destroyed by the drunken throngs. Nicole and I made some nacho dip, which thankfully allowed me to shut myself up in the kitchen during the opening rounds of the fracas, which started a bit too early before the 11pm kickoff.
This morning, the bathtub was filled with empty beer cans, the bookshelf was placed firmly in the middle of the hall, and the kitchen floor had a nice coating of honey. I'll leave the explanation for these conditions up to your imagination. At least tonight, Chris didn't get hit by a taxi.
As for the game, I'm still somewhat in disbelief. Yesterday, my roommate and Patriots fan Sam asked my why I didn't just support the Patriots, "to save myself the heartache of loss." I was amused by the seductiveness of this argument, calling up images of Emperor Palpatine, Sauron, or Pacino in The Devil's Advocate. Though I was not awake to see Sam's reaction at the end of the game, I can attest that he has taken the loss like a man, without any whining or grasping irrational excuses. He did skip work today though to recuperate.
As far as the Patriots themselves go, I'm delighted to see some justice for the smug pompousness that has emanated out of Foxboro this season. I'm also glad to see that cutoff-hoodie-wearing asshole Belichik fail in any capacity. Perhaps Tommy Brady will impregnate another starlet to blow off steam, then leave her when someone hotter comes along. The fact that the damage was wreaked by a Manning makes it even better. Of course everyone expected it to by Peyton, but obviously any Manning will suffice. The Patriots' opponents should hire Archie as a consultant and have Cooper suited up ready to come in for a few plays at backup.
Bill Simmons picked the Patriots 42-17. Shows what he knows. Supposedly the Patriots invited some of the Giants to their after-party before the game. Perhaps the '72 Dolphins should have invited the Patriots to their after-party.

Stay tuned for a Super Tuesday reaction...

Roommates

This is Sam, the guy who lives in my room. He was tired from his trip to Galway so I seized the opportunity for a photo. Sam is from Boston, so naturally he's an insufferable supporter of Boston sports. He goes to Indiana, so he likes college basketball as I do. He has an internship with the Irish Sailing Authority or something like that on the coast. Its pretty plush but he has to get up early. I forgive him for liking Dave Matthews.











This is Danny. As you can see, Danny is in the fraternity Sigma Nu and he is fond of pastels. He has the good fortune to be named for both the main character of Karate Kid and the rebellious son in the Ninja Turtles. Danny has a Sean John coat with a furry hood, much like the one Cody has, that he is very attached to. He's from New Orleans - his family just moved back into their house. Danny is a compulsive eater of eggs, and he likes rap and pumping iron.




















This is Perry, who has just authorized the use of military force against Cuber. Perry is from New York, so he supports the Knicks. He has a ballin' Knicks hat that he often wears out. He also likes the Giants so the playoff run has been fun, because I can support a Manning. Along with Sam, Perry has a relationship with a variety of local casinos, which are unlicensed and quite interesting. Either through blackjack or the lottery, Perry and Sam are going to win us an Aston Martin or a dishwasher or both.


<--Chris. Chris is from New Jersey, but you can only tell when he's ordering pizza. Along with Perry and Danny, he goes to Washington University in St. Louis. Chris is fond of watching short internet films like "Bubb Rub and Lil' Sis" and "Charlie Bit Me" He got the single room in our apartment, so naturally we don't think very highly of him. Chris raucously flirts with our RA, Caroline, to the amusement of all. She's warming up to him.

Cockles and Mussels Alive, Alive-o

Tuesday was windy as hell. It was a kind of Irish Kenny the Pooh and the Blustery Day. There was a ~40 mph sustained wind, with gusts that must have been well over 50 and up. My walk to class was accomplished by leaning forward about 20 degrees to preserve my forward momentum. Sideward gusts allowed me to perform a highly difficult feat multiple times - spitting on a wall while walking parallel to it and spitting directly forward with no mind to aim.

Dangerously, I've discovered a kind of chocolate chocolate-chip muffic called "Magic Muffins" that is sold at discounted prices in Trinity's student union shop. These muffins taste very close to a similar confection called "Puddin' Cake" that I used to eat as a child. Whatever is in these muffins, I hope it's not bad for you.

It takes an average of 25 minutes to walk to Trinity from my apartment. Sometimes, I leave with plenty of time, sometimes I don't. The answer is to treat myself like a lawnmower, with a few fixed speeds. The gearshift in this case is the music I listen to. If I can afford to stroll, I'll play some Earth Wind and Fire. If I'm pressed for time, some late-era Judas Priest.

In other news, any surface in this city that has raised edges and does not drain properly grows moss. This includes buildings. Nicole's getting in this weekend, so there will probably be more pictures because we'll do touristy stuff.

General Update

I'll try to have something up about my roommates soon. I'm torn between attempting to arrange mugshots of them and taking unannounced photos of them, preferably either ones of them talking, resulting in oddly contorted mouths, or running in their rooms while they're asleep and taking pictures then. I'll save further information about them for later.

I've run across probably the best way of describing the difference in pricing between Dublin and home. Not only is the exchange rate from dollars to euros apocalyptically horrible, criminal even, but prices in Dublin are very expensive as a result of Ireland's rampant economic growth in the past decade. So - at home, Domino's has the "555 deal," or 3 pizzas for $5 dollars each...here, Domino's has the "888 deal," which of course is in euros, and when converted results in the $12$12$12 deal. Special thanks to sub-prime lending and sloppy-ass monetary policy for our increasingly flaccid currency.

I dropped our mop out of the 2nd story kitchen window today. I was trying to balance it so it would drip out the window, and did not take the windspeed into account, which was many knots. Humorously, it fell in front of the living room window of our downstairs neighbors, so all of them saw it. I just looked at them like it was their fault. In other news, I found a rough equivalent to Frosted Mini-Wheats. This is good, not only for taste and comfort purposes but because it has good fiber, which is essential in a diet featuring beer and fat in majority. Furthermore, Axe is called "Lynx" here, but its still a Unilever product and all the smells are the same. Finally, they not only carry my American toothbrush brand and model of choice, but they actually carry the "firm" variety here, and I can only find "medium" at home.

We went to a pub tonight that advertised that it was showing NFL games. There were a bunch of obnoxious Patriots fans inside. We decided to boisterously support the Chargers, except of course Sam, who is from Boston, and Chris, who decided for the sake of humor that he would scream and curse with bestial vigor whenever ill things befell the Patriots. Last night Sam and I went to another pub to watch an Irish rugby team compete in a European championship match. The pubs were jam-packed, and the atmosphere was great. Munster, who are an excellent team, advanced with a win. I believe it's now time to doze off slingboxing the NFC Championship.

School

We had a trial-by-fire introduction to the way business at Trinity is done right from the beginning when we had to register as students at the university and register for classes all on the first official day of lectures. They sent us back and forth across the city just getting our documents approved to be real students. In order to sign up for classes, you have to walk to each department, look at their bulletin board, find a class that looks cool, and then manually scribble down the timetable for it with a quill-pen and inkpot. Once you've done this for every department you're interested in (in my case, English, Irish, History, and Linguistics), you can start going to each department secretary and asking them what to do. They then refer you to the department visiting students coordinator, who usually gives you more papers to sign, tells you you can't take some courses, and then sends you back to the secretary. You have one master document that your courses must go on, and you leave it with that department over night so they can track down the department head so he or she can sign it. That means that for four departments you need at minimum four days for your forms. Also, they only do business between 10am and noon, and between 2pm and 4pm. If you come during lunch, they will tell you to piss off. After all that is signed, you have to take it to the international office and have them approve it. As you can see this is all a big circus of malarkey and nonsense. The guy in the Linguistics department in particular was an ass to me. I didn't have the heart to tell him that where I come from, a computer does his job.

I've been to at least a lecture for all the classes I'm taking so far. My linguistics class is an M.Phil (masters) class on semantics taught by a British Middle-Eastern guy who seems really cool. All the people are older, but I've played that game before. My Old English class is bigger, but the teachers are cool. Ian McKellen is in the class. He must have decided to go back to school. Some poor soul in my tutorial for Old English had to ask for an explanation about direct objects and subjects and predicates. I turned her over to the police after class was over. My Irish language and literature course is basically taught by a couple of bards who weave tapestries out of legend and myth for an hour and then let us go. It doesn't suck. Finally, I have a history class with a really interesting professor on the historiography of the English in medieval Ireland. He's blatantly vitriolic about the British which is great. Our first class was us reading an article by another historian and him going through it line by line, making jokes about the scholarship and ridiculing the author.

Trinity is great as ever, it's like going to school at Hogwarts. The dining hall is lined with 20 feet tall paintings of famous college deans and various nobles. At our orientation, we were served wine. The priests from the chaplaincy recited all these Irish proverbs to welcome us and told us when we could join them for Eucharist and a complimentary glass of sherry. We haven't been back to the school pub yet but its a cool place.

Apartment

Here's the front door to ole' No. 88. It's got the nice center doorknob and the Georgian window above. The downside is you have to unlock another door inside and the key looks like it was forged by a 17th century blacksmith.















The view from the carpark. The illuminated window is the living room. The one to the left of it is the kitchen.

















Our street sign.













My and Sam's bedroom from the door. Notice the newspapers I crammed in the window to attempt to keep it from banging in the wind. Also, the white line is not the top of the window - it goes all the way to the ceiling and is made out of
foot-thick submarine glass.








Alternate view of our room from the bathroom. My bed is the one on the left.

















Checking to make sure the mirror worked. All systems nominal.












Our bathroom - a beautifully restored replica of the shower facilities on a WWII-era Soviet submarine. The little white box converts peat moss into hot water. Dumb as it sounds, it's far more effective than the shower in the other bathroom, which gets its hot water from a small-scale replica of Sputnik in one of the hall closets that has about 50 dials and hoses. There's a nice little pullstring heater that warms up the bathroom at the cost of making it smell like a 10-year old hairdryer.










The view from our window. For sharpness I had to choose the picture with the ghost in it.












The galley. The orb light fixture was stolen from a nearby Waffle House...or Bangers n' Mash House. The model of the Millennium Falcon on the counter is actually our newly-purchased George Foreman grill. We have two mini-fridges. On the far left is the combination washer-dryer. It requires a college education, a blood sacrifice, and about 30 hours to complete a cycle. Perry started a load of shirts early Saturday and they were done Sunday evening.











The living room. The fireplace has fake bricks of peat moss. Unfortunately, the chimney is blocked up. I've strategized other ways to make fire, mostly for purposes of cooking barbecue, but all would probably result in my arrest.















One of the bad ass paintings in the living room. They're both on canvas and have actual brushmarks and stuff so we presume they're real paintings. So far the leading candidates for this girl's name are Shonde' and Towanda. Feel free to post suggestions.














The other great painting. I title it The Stench of Avarice.