Clamped on James Street, Dublin last night.
And that’s not all:
Anyone?
Thanks John Gallen
Mummy’s Boys
at
They need their fathers, see?
The umbilical cord has been severed, but little more. Still tied to their mothers’ apron strings, more and more of our young men carry knives to announce their manhood. With their fathers cast into silence, they are starved of the wisdoms and mythologies that might sustain a healthy male existence. In our obsession with minoritarianism, we have overlooked some of the most vital constituents of a healthy community.
Adrift in the numbness that engulfs them, many of our young men now walk with an outward appearance of normality but inwardly lurch uncontrollably – from, for example, a learned piety to intense rage – all the time seeking something to provide some illusion of feeling while simultaneously keeping the numbness at bay. Sometimes the cultural conditions cause their defences to break down and another calamity ensues.
We Need To Understand The Rage In Our Midst (John Waters, Irish Times)
Tequila Mockingbird writes:
The fresh deli counter, Grand Canal Square {Dublin].
The Sad Thing On Sale That Made Me Sad to Broadsheet@broadsheet.ie
16 pages of coverage inside.
Sixteen.
Oh.
Ciarán O’ Connor writes:
SPHE [Social, Personal and Health Education] book for Jnr Crt students basically ordering them to avoid sex until marriage. What decade is this?
Anyone?
Nationalists in the Ardoyne protest after a Orange Order parade passed through the area yesterday.
(Laura Hutton/Photocall ireland)
Not Amused
at
Following our Last Post post.
Looks like no reign.
Service of Charge writes:
The bastards in An Post. Poor Victorians. This (above) was Dartmouth Square [Dublin 6] a few weeks ago. And (below) is the same spot today [Thursday]. Breaks my heart.
Eight weeks.
Eight.
(RTE)
Oswald the bunny has done something awful and no one must ever find out about it.
An unhinged detective noir that’s a bit Sin City, somewhat Ren and Stimpy, kind of Alice In Wonderland and a shade Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
Directed by Albert ‘t Hooft & Paco Vink of Anikey Studios in the Netherlands.
Back in pre-CGI 1979, the Alien xenomorph (in the few scenes where its entire figure appeared in shot) was played by 6’10” Nigerian actor Bolaji Badejo.
Here he is, during production in a corridor of the Nostromo, practising creepy xeno-moves (agreed during a meeting with HR Giger) wearing a mocked-up alien head.
The actual articulating special effects helmet, as Badejo explained to Cinefantastique magazine in 1979, was the only downside of playing the part:
[The special-effects helmet] was all manual, remote controlled […] There’s still a space in it for my head. I had it on just to make sure nothing goes wrong with the posture of the head or how tall it is in comparison to the other sequences. They must have had about 2000 tubes of K-Y Jelly […] just to get the effect of that slime coming out of his mouth. A lot of it was spread around on the face. I could barely see what was going on around me, except when I was in a stationary position, while they were filming. Then there were a few holes I could look through.