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Saturday, 4 July 2015

The probability of 'DREAMS'

Life, society,people and the way we live are different now to past times. As we move through the age's, we learn to adapt and change, as we will in the future.
In the fifties, Polio was incurable and Scarlet fever  a killer, now we hardly hear of them except in poorer regions.
Things were different then, as they are now and will be in the future.
Icarus tried flying with wings made of wax and as we all know the sun melted them. At present, while i'm writing this a plane, sun powered,  'Solar impulse 2',  has landed in Hawaii to great excitement. This will continue later on another stage of thirteen, in a round the world trip. In the past, when Icarus was alive, this would have been scary, in the future this or something similar will be the norm. The impossible becoming possible, the dream becoming a reality.
Beware of what people, particularly those with knowledge, say is impossible, as all dreams have the capacity to become reality.
Three months journey to Van Dieman's land in Captain Cooks time can now be achieved in twenty hours and possibly less in the future.
Our famine victims crossed the Atlantic to America in ten weeks, this can now be done in eight hours, an impossible dream becoming a reality.
In the future it will be difficult to die as every physical part of the body will be replace as happens with cars at the moment. At present you can have your heart replaced, new valves fitted, legs replaced, hips, knees, a new nose built and kidneys replaced.
It is only sixty years since the first heart transplant by Christiaan Bernard on the 3rd of December 1967 in Cape Town South Africa. Before this he had performed the second successful Kidney transplant in Africa the same year. This was an impossibility until he achieved it and look at what has happened in medicine during this short time-frame, many dreams turned into reality.
If men can dream it, men can build or resolve it.
Life is full of opportunities, they lie in un-suspecting places, hidden, to be found by dreamers.
Dreamers are more important than science, poetry, engineering, as these are the outcomes of someone's dreams.
Lets awake tomorrow with a dream, let it grow, evolve into a solution to a challenge.
Only the brave can do this, are you one of us?

JC-Dublin-A City defined by 'It's Dreamers and Doers'.

Saturday, 13 June 2015


Funny is funny in a funny sort of way. It can be humorous, dark, uproarious, slick, jokey, hilarious, and much more, if it works. If this five letter word turns on you and doesn't work, it's like 'Death in a Moment'.
We can of course be funny unintentionally which is referred to as 'People Laughing Against Us', not funny.
What we need to be really funny is 'People laughing With Us' and some talent/ability. Not an easy task.
Yet everybody tries to be funny at some time or other, with some succeeding and others falling flat on the proverbial. Often there are those who just seem FUNNY funny, not a nice place to be. You have of course heard people say 'She's funny that way' sympathetically.

Jack Benny could be funny, hilariously so, by doing nothing, just standing on the stage, still. He is reputed to have done this for up to fifteen minutes. He had a reputation for being a 'Miser' and he certainly was, with jokes, based on the amount of time he stood still but audiences got value in laughs.
On one occasion he was in a restaurant and the manager passed a comment him "Your daughter is a bigger tipper than you" to which he replied "We'll she has a rich father, I don't".
He also played the Violin, of which he is reputed to be an excellent player but this is not what we saw on stage. When he removed the violin from his case it could be anything up to ten minutes before he hit the strings with his bow, before you heard a note. Usually bad ones which set the audience laughing, again mean with notes, at least good ones.

Tommy Cooper  often made us laugh by doing nothing  or doing something badly, a magician who couldn't magician.

Les Dawson another English comedian, would stand there on the stage, cross his arms and twist his face or often just his lips and the audience would split their sides laughing. He also had some good monologues which were well written and ridicule his mother-in-law. "I have a soft spot for the mother in-law, its down the back garden".
It's funny really how this can happen, be funny i mean, when some people do it and not for others.
This is down to an undefined skill, 'TIMING' which takes years to practice and perfect. All of the above have this down to a 'T', T for timing.
It's funny really, but funny is a very serious business, which takes a lot of hard work,  practice, honing and trauma to make it work, funny that.
You will notice that when a great comedian tells a story or joke he or she will not laugh at it but you will. The exception to this is Tommy Cooper who never stops laughing from the moment he steps onto the stage, but gets away with it.
Norman Wisdom specialised in falling about in a manner that would be a credit to any world class gymnast. His eyes, body movement and general demeanor were funny.
Funny how that works.
What a funny old world,
Life is funny, being funny but its also funny being funny, funny that?

JC-Dublin-A city defined by its comics

Wednesday, 8 April 2015

Fairy tree

The tree was laden with soothers that one presumes was sucked by children over the previous few years. This is the ‘Fairy Soother Tree’ of Kilnamanagh* where local Fairies hang soothers celebrating, some voluntarily, giving them up as a sign of growth.
What the fairies do with these items is a mystery to most but I have seen them sitting within the rings while watching a GAA match being played on the nearby pitches. They have to be careful as birds have been known to snap a fairy up and carry them away to their nest.
Fairies are generally very quick at disappearing so it takes a very quick bird to grab one. Unfortunately if a fairy is stressed IE caught in a beak, they find it hard to disappear.
It is quite possible and believable that birds have some knowledge unknown to us humans, that stop fairies using their magic powers as they can’t disappear from a birds nest and find themselves sitting on an n egg for months with only maggots and bird saliva for food.
I know they use these soothers for exercise, swinging from one to another like monkeys use tree branches. It’s like a fairy gym and they can be used a s swings when it’s breezy.
Of course none of this happens when humans are about so they pick a tree in a quiet area where people are less likely to be.
Another benefit of a tree is humans tend to look down instead of up, so even if they are playing when humans are around they are unlikely to be noticed. Fairies can’t figure this out as there are far more interesting sights in life if you look up rather than down. Fairies won’t complain about this as it makes life easier for them. If only birds did the same. Well! They do but from a different perspective. They look down from above the tree if only they could also look up as well.

PS; It is worth nothing that Henry 111 (Of England) signed a law decreeing the death penalty for anyone found killing, wounding or maiming fairies. There is nothing in print to suggest this applied to Leprechauns? 
* Kilnamanagh is a housing estate on the south side of Dublin city in the townland of 'Tallaght'.

JC-DUBLIN-A City defined by its love of the little people.

Thursday, 26 March 2015

Watery World

Reeds along the water bank hide a myriad of secrets known only to the fish and other inhabitants of the water and its surrounds. They present a magical enclosure where the dark forces of life reside.
Fish with humps, ducks with walking sticks, swans in wheelchairs amongst other unsightly and unpleasant residents.
Humans are advised to stay away or suffer the consequences. What these consequences are I am not sure.
I have spoken to an old fish on the night the reeds are tallest and he revealed some of the terrors that reside within.
He spoke about the dreaded Turret rat, so called because their teeth resemble the turret of a castle. How he or any other fish know what a castle looks like is beyond me but I didn't question him, decided to just listen.
I am sworn to secrecy about the location of this meet or the date on which it took place. The dark forces within the reeds are very secretive. He tells me turret is always on the lookout for victims of the human kind.
He reminded me of the many missing people around the world who after a night out, disappear without trace or explanation. This is the work of Turret and his accomplices within the reeds.
Their dark deeds are often disturbed when well minded councils or conservation groups cut the reeds back. They look on this as time out or rest time, knowing the reeds grow back quickly.
Turret will often recruit a long slithery pike to use as a whip around the ankles of unsteady humans. Particularly in the early hours of the morning. They will be pulled into the water and mashed into a slime by thousands of hammer head flies which is then used as a slush like drink for the reeds.
These hammerheads are very good at taking instructions from Turret and his cohorts in the dark army. They feel safe in the reeds because humans look to the water for menace.
Reeds can also talk to each other but refuse to converse with other life forms. They won’t even talk to Turret or any of the other residents of their enclosure. They see the human slush as part payment for the protection life form receives in their space.

JC-Dublin-A City defined by its Whispering Reeds

Saturday, 21 February 2015

A bit of 'FUN'

‘I forgot to remember to forget’ is a phrase that comes to mind as I ponder a question posed in a local newspaper ‘Don’t forget to have fun’. Ironically I have forgotten what fun is?
I am having a flashback to Cyndi lauper’s 1984 hit song ‘Girls just wanna have fun’.
Is fun something you can remember to have, like remembering to pay bills or or collect someone from the airport?
Surely having fun is a consequence rather than an intentional act.
Could I possibly look at my watch, see its three o’clock “Oh! Time to have fun” and off I go?
I suppose it depends on what one does for fun, as I read recently in David Norris’s  Autobiography ‘A kick against the pricks’, about a family living close to him on North Great Georges Street in Dublin’s North City, who built a snow man and a snow seat on the street for all to enjoy. People were having good fun with this until three teenage girls came along and had fun knocking down the snowman. The act was fun for them (The girls) while the consequence of the act was hurt and anger for the couple who built it.
There was also the group of Chelsea football fans who had fun throwing a coloured man of the Metro in Paris. Hopefully the consequence of this act of fun will be jail time or at least a hefty fine.
Some will have fun running a marathon which can be hard work, painful and energy draining to say the least. Others enjoy playing rugby as the Irish team did against France last week. It wasn’t a fun game as it struggled to entertain but the outcome or consequence was fun for the Irish team and supporters who revelled in the win.
For me! I have fun challenging perceptions or taking on the impossible and making it possible.

I also have fun writing nonsense like this?

Dublin-A City defined by its sense of fun

Wednesday, 28 January 2015

Caca Milis

A night of carols in the National Concert Hall accentuates the process or form that leads to a pre-determined outcome.
We have the choir, Ruby the diva, Orchestra made up of all the constituent parts. There were brass, strings, drums, organ, as well as the leader and conductor.
This is a nice safe way to enjoy a traditional Christmas, safe from the cold emanating from at least six inches of snow (150 mm),
There is of course nothing wrong with this, twelve days of Christmas, some Strauss, Wagner, Handel’s Messiah, enjoyed by a less than full auditorium.
As I tend to need something more than this for my enjoyment, I wondered if there was some randomness placed amongst this very safely designed process for Christmas, what would be the outcome.                                                                                                                           Design, generally leads to pre-determined outcomes as is the case with this concert. My mind wonders what would be the outcome if somebody hit the drum in a few unintended places or the diva let out an untended roar or cry. We could hear the violins squeak a little or maybe insert some Beatles or better still, something original. What about some dance, Jedward style or Greek Tracian, maybe a Russian leg dance, what about all three, wouldn't that be interesting, along with the Zumba.
Often, a little randomness leads to the pre-determined outcome-plus, wouldn't that make a very interesting Christmas, for me at least.
Christmas Cake
A scattering of strings
A thump of drum
A mix of percussion (A random pinch)
Blast of brass, polish to a high gloss
Drop in diva, the larger the better
A sprinkling of holy night, sung in tune
Large bash of organ (organic)
3 French hens, check batteries
Large dollop of choir
As much or as little of randomness as you can tolerate
Stir well adding Sean Quinn’s delusional optimism
Add a dollop of sensuality (Well! this is random)
A touch of Eroticism (More randomism)
A spoonful of desire (Sprinkle randomly and generously)
Pour some cheerful brandy over it, in large seasonal proportions
Place in the oven at level random and bake for 12 days, with a partridge in a pear tree
Check at regular intervals, be nosy, use a needle to prod and make sure plenty of sentimentality sticks to it. If not, leave in oven until ready.
It is recommended that you roast your nuts on an open fire, while waiting for the cake to bake.
Warning-Fan ovens may put out the fire?

Second warning-This cake can only be baked with the permission of the bundesbank, the troika or Angela Merkel. Possibly any two of the three.

JC-Dublin-A city defined by it's cakes

(Caca Milis=Sweet cake)

Friday, 3 October 2014

Connecting eyes

It’s strange that moment when two eyes connect, the realisation of recognition. The thoughts that can run through your mind, in that second, that very fast moment.
‘is that him/her, it can’t be, I was just thinking of him/her'.
Across the distance between our eyes and our thoughts, it is recognisable that he/she, is having the very same thoughts, shared thoughts.
I've had this connection a few times in my life, not always with someone I wanted to connect with.
On one occasion, during the late sixties, I was working on a building site on Grace Park road in Drumcondra. We worked on 'Piece Work' and only  paid for the work we completed. We had a maximum to complete each day and I had no problem achieving this goal . In fact I was well ahead and had work stored up as there was a maximum we could earn each day. It was winter time and needless to say, I wasn't jumping out of bed with excitement each morning. I would turn over, then twice, turn over again, back and forth many times. Eventually I would inch my way out of bed on to the cold winter, lino covered floor. In my own time I made my way towards the first of my two buses, late for work. This happened morning after morning, right through these frost covered mornings. The money was very good but the work was less than enticing.
It was on my second bus, one morning, heading up the Drumcondra road, where this connection happened.
Our two eyes connected when the bus stopped at the junction of Drumcondra road and Grace Park road. I was less than fully awake, my head lying against the steam covered windows. It’s important to recount that the bus stopped in the middle of the junction, right in front of A blue 'Ford Anglia' car. This was not any Blue Ford Anglia, this was the blue Anglia car owned and driven by my boss. Our eye’s met, his from behind the steering wheel of this sixties classic and me, through the disturbed steam covered window of the number 16 bus. Our thought connected, not of the polite variety but easily understood.
He didn't need to say anything for me to know I was in trouble, I didn't need to say anything for him to sense that I felt trapped, nowhere to hide, why had I disturbed the steam on the window.
The anger in his eye’s and the evidence of blood pressure that showed in his red face sent a very distinct, clear message to me that morning.

That brief moment, those brief thoughts, underscored our relationship from then on. 

JC-Dublin-A City defined by it's thoughts.