Ryanair Press Conference about Trans Atlantic Service.

The "Mouth of the West" Michael O'Leary explains the frills (sic) available in Business Class when Ryanair launch their Trans Atlantic Service!

Caprese

The Isle of Capri

In Italian restaurants the description “Caprese” has been rendered somewhat meaningless by being applied as a “catch all” description. Originally it meant simple rustic food from Campania as exemplified by the diet of the fishermen on Capri and particularly the simple salad made from the local ingredients of Buffalo Mozzarella, fresh tomatoes and fresh basil. Well there is very little simple about today’s Capri which has a well deserved reputation as a pit stop for the jet set trying to recapture the Dolce Vita. Not the one from Rome in the early 60’s but the one from the Emperor Tiberius 2000 years earlier. Here are some simple recipes which are typical of Capri.


Insalata Caprese


A delicious salad prepared exclusively with local produce: island grown tomatoes and the freshest Bufala Mozzarella.

Ingredients for 4 people:
Capri tomatoes
Mozzarella di Bufala or Fiordilatte cheese
Extra virgin olive oil
Fresh basil
Oregano, salt

Cut the tomatoes and mozzarella into slices and place them in alternating order on a plate.
Dress with extra virgin olive oil and a little salt.
Add a few leaves of fresh basil and oregano to taste.


Limoncello di Capri


Liqueur made using the lemons of Capri. An Excellent after dinner drink and splendid alternative to the Italian “amaro”. Capri and the Amalfi coast are famous for their lemons which are not like the shapely supermarket lemons we get in the UK. These lemons are left on the tree for two years and are 2 to 3 times the size of lemons we see in the UK. Their skins are rough and gnarled and it is this rind which is used to make the Limoncello.

Ingredients:

10 organically grown lemons
1 liter of alcohol (95°)
1 liter water
1 kg. sugar

Carefully remove the yellow part of the lemon peel. Infuse with the alcohol in a closed glass container for 20 days, shaking now and again. Sieve the infusion. Prepare the syrup with the hot water and sugar, let it cool and add to the infusion. Leave for another 10 days before bottling. Serve ice cold.


Caponata

An easy to prepare, wonderfully fresh dish which is ideal for a summer lunch. There are many types of Caponata, usually an eggplant dish from Sicily reflecting the Arabic influence and liking of the contrast between sweet and sour ingredients. This is the simpler Caprese version.

Ingredients for 4 people:

Loaf of Ciabatta bread
Cherry tomatoes
Mozzarella
Black and Green Olives
Basil, oil, salt
To taste: lettuce, rocket, tuna, and mackerel.

Soak the bread in plenty of water until soft.
Place all the ingredients in a large salad bowl, dress and serve immediately.


Chiummenzana


A quick to prepare pasta dish, using tomato and herbs, typical of the Mediterranean diet.

Ingredients for 4 people:
Cherry tomatoes
400 gr. spaghetti
Garlic, oil, peperoncino
Basil and oregano

In a frying pan, heat the oil and add the garlic and peperoncino. Add the tomatoes, basil, a pinch of oregano, and leave to cook for approximately 15 minutes. In the meantime place the water to boil. Cook the pasta until “al dente”, drain and toss in the pan with the sauce.

Serve immediately

Buon Appetito!

Toxic Blacklist

The BBC has reported that Employers have begun a blacklist of “bad” employees who have been dismissed or those who have left before disciplinary proceedings can be commenced. To critics it sounds like a scenario from some Orwellian nightmare. An online database of workers accused of theft and dishonesty, regardless of whether they have been convicted of any crime, which bosses can access when vetting potential employees. But this is no dystopian fantasy. Later this month, the National Staff Dismissal Register (NSDR) is expected to go live.

Harrods and Selfridges are among two of Britain's best known high street businesses to have signed up to a controversial database for blacklisted staff that could affect the careers of three million workers. Under the privately run scheme, the names and personal details of former employees whose behaviour has offended the companies will be placed on the newly created National Staff Dismissal Register.

While some employees whose crimes are prosecuted in court will have a chance to defend themselves, other staff may never know their behaviour has found its way on to the register or that they have become a blacklisted worker. Workers sacked for these offences will be included on the register, regardless of whether police had enough evidence to convict them. Also on the list will be employees who resigned before they could face disciplinary proceedings at work. Seven businesses have so far signed up to the register, which went live last month, according to the scheme's organiser, Action Against Business Crime. They include Mothercare and Reed Managed Services.




Politicians and lawyers condemned the database and called on the Government to bring in immediate safeguards to protect employees. The Liberal Democrat home affairs spokesman in the House of Lords, Baroness Sue Miller, said it was "a disgrace that the Government has ignored the rights of employees while private businesses have established a blacklist with no safeguards for the employees put on it".

Baroness Miller added: "A website run for profit is trying to take the place of police, prosecution, judge and jury. There need to be stringent safeguards put in place on this blacklist. "Employees should not be placed on the register until they have been given the opportunity to object. The burden must be on employers to prove an employee's guilt before they are entered on the register."

But Action Against Business Crime says the register will comply with data protection legislation and will hold details of individuals who have been under investigation for acts of dishonesty. "This information is shared with other members of the register who are able to access the national system to search for details of an applicant, ensuring both cost saving through reduction in losses, and a more efficient recruitment process," said Action Against Business Crime.

Selfridges said that any offence that was sent to the register would be properly investigated and that appropriate efforts would be made to notify the former member of staff. A spokeswoman for Harrods, which is owned by Mohamed Al Fayed, said the company had agreed in principle to sign up to the National Staff Dismissal Register. She added: "Our existing internal disciplinary procedures ensure that no person subject to a frivolous or malevolent allegation would find themselves on the register.”We believe that our involvement with the scheme will give extra reassurance to current staff and customers alike."



Well these PR words pale against the proven, documented track record of Mohamed Al Fayed which demonstrates the great danger of the scheme and the damage to employees from this covert Kangaroo Court where no ACAS guidelines need be followed, no employee has a right of representation or appeal and where in Defamation Law malice and an intention to cause harm to the individuals listed can be assumed, for why else have this database other than to stop people being successful in applying for jobs? There is not just the Department of Trade inquiry which found "We are satisfied the image they created between November 1984 and March 1985 of their wealthy Egyptian ancestors was completely bogus." He was later accused by his business rival Tiny Rowland of breaking into a safety deposit box at the store. Without admitting responsibility, Mr Al Fayed settled the dispute with Rowland's wife after his death. Al Fayed had been arrested during the dispute and sued the Metropolitan Police for false arrest in 2002. He lost the case. He has been refused a British Passport by no less than four Home Secretary’s on character grounds, a decision upheld by the Court of Appeal. Mohamed Fayed was also involved in the cash for questions scandal, having offered money for questions in the commons to the Conservative MPs Neil Hamilton and Tim Smith. Both left the government in disgrace. Fayed also revealed that the cabinet minister Jonathan Aitken had stayed for free at the Ritz Hotel in Paris at the same time as a group of Saudi arms dealers leading to Aitken's subsequent unsuccessful libel case and imprisonment for perjury.

His record as an employer and as a reliable witness begs scrutiny and includes:

• The substantial number of out of court settlements by Fayed for sexual harassment by Harrods and Fayair (His executive jet business) employees
• Fayed's recorded quotation that the reason he wanted British citizenship was that he didn't like queuing up with the Pakis at Heathrow
• The number of occasions upon which Harrods employees have successfully obtained a finding of racial discrimination at an employment tribunal
• The resignation of the managing director of Harrods Bank, citing improper practices instructed to him by Fayed, leading to the interest taken in the probity of the arrangements there by the Bank of England, which led to Harrods subcontracting the operation of the bank to a reputable bank
• The opening of a safe deposit box belonging to a customer of Harrods Bank, being a person Fayed was known to have an interest in
• The DTI's conclusion that he lied to the Monopolies and Mergers Commission in its investigation of the take-over of Harrods
• His bribe to a member of parliament to facilitate his getting citizenship
• His subsequent admission of that bribe to embarrass the MP when he failed to deliver it
• His apparent almost daily handling of very large sums of cash which get handed out to people
• His loss of an Employment Tribunal case taken by the former Fulham Manager in Fulham Football Club (1987) Ltd V Jean Tigana. (£3m award against Al Fayed)
• Diana’s Bodyguard Trevor Rees-Jones V Al Fayed (County Court 2000, Breach of Contract).

The main source for much of the above is Tom Bower's book "Fayed", which itself has very detailed sources. Bower is very careful in what he says, and no one has successfully sued Bower for libel, despite frequent threats to do so. So no doubting the quality of the entries on the Toxic Blacklist then!

But Kerry Waters, an employment rights expert at Clarions Solicitors, said that the register was potentially "wide open to abuse, with little detail being provided by the Action Against Business Crime Group as to how (or even whether at all) the register will be policed or monitored." She warned that one "minor blip" on someone's record "could wreak havoc with their career".

There is a dilemma here. When firms detect dishonesty it certainly reflects on the employee but it also reflects on the control systems and oversight in the company. For this reason companies rarely prosecute - it exposes weakness in their systems and inadequate management. It is the first principle of Justice that it should be public and open - If companies feel they have been the victims of fraud and dishonesty they should have the courage of their convictions to prosecute with all that entails, including reputational risk.


Otherwise a blacklist is unethical and guaranteed to lead to successful actions for defamation and breach of Data Protection legislation - it is a poltroonerish way of having your cake and eating it? So this Toxic Blacklist is a clear breach of the rules of natural justice and the Human Rights, can be negated by requests under the Data Protection Act to remove individual subject data and it is a ready made grudge weapon for every inept and incompetent employer who does not follow due process and ACAS guidelines and has grudges against employees including whistleblowers who are protected by statute. Nor is there any possible equity with employees suing employers and a "Bad Employer Database" being created. As an analogy customers sue and get judgements against Banks all the time. Effect on Bank; virtually zero. Bank gets judgement against customer; effect on customer? Catastrophic!

So what is the sound of sharpening wood and laughter you hear in the background? Why it is the lawyers of Britain sharpening their pencils and laughing their heads off that the National Staff Dismissal Register (NSDR) has made proving malice and seeking damages so easy! I predict writs at dawn!

Why do they say that? - No. 1

The Celtic Sage has a certain interest in etymology so here is the first of an occasional series on word origins – the next one will be on the 694 sayings of John Milton which have entered the English language – three times more than the sayings attributed to William Shakespeare!

However let us start with the Bard. Anne Hathaway was the wife of William Shakespeare. She married at the age of 26 which was really unusual for the time. Most people married young, at the age of 11 or 12. However life in England in the 1500’s was not as romantic as we may picture it. Here are some examples:

Anne Hathaway's home was a 3 bedroom house with a small parlour, which was seldom used (only for company), kitchen, and no bathroom. Mother and Father shared a bedroom. Anne had a queen sized bed, but did not sleep alone. She also had 2 other sisters and they shared the bed also with 6 servant girls. (This is before she married) They didn't sleep like we do lengthwise but all laid on the bed crosswise. At least they had a bed. The other bedroom was shared by her 6 brothers and 30 field workers. They didn't have a bed. Everyone just wrapped up in their blanket and slept on the floor. They had no indoor heating so all the extra bodies kept them warm. They were also small people, the men only grew to be about 5'6" and the women were 4'8". In their house they had 27 people living.

Most people got married in June. Why? They took their yearly bath in May, so they were till smelling pretty good by June, although they were starting to smell, so the brides would carry a bouquet of flowers to hide their B.O. Like I said, they took their yearly bath in May, but it was just a big tub that they would fill with hot water. The man of the house would get the privilege of the nice clean water. Then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all to have a bath were the babies. By then the water was pretty thick. Thus, the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water," it was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it.

Let’s describe their houses a little. You've heard of thatch roofs, well that's all they were. Thick straw, piled high, with no wood underneath. They were the only place for the little animals to get warm. So all the pets; dogs, cats and other small animals, mice, rats, bugs, all lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery so sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Thus the saying, "it's raining cats and dogs." Since there was nothing to stop things from falling into the house they would just try to clean up a lot. But this posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings from animals could really mess up your nice clean bed, so they found if they would make beds with big posts and hang a sheet over the top it would prevent that problem. That's where those traditionall big 4 poster beds with canopies came from.


When you came into the house you would notice most times that the floor was compacted dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt, that's where the saying "dirt poor" came from. The wealthy would have slate or stone floors. That was fine but in the winter they would get slippery when they got wet. So they started to spread straw thresh on the floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on they would just keep adding it and adding it until when you opened the door it would all start slipping outside. So they put a piece of wood at the entry way, a "thresh hold". In the kitchen they would cook over the fire, they had a fireplace in the kitchen/parlour, that was seldom used and sometimes in the master bedroom. They had a big kettle that always hung over the fire and every day they would light the fire and start adding things to the pot. Mostly they ate vegetables, as they didn't get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner then leave the leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes the stew would have food in it that had been in there for a month! Thus the rhyme: “peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old."

Sometimes they could get a hold of some pork. They really felt special when that happened and when company came over they even had a rack in the parlour where they would bring out some bacon and hang it to show it off. That was a sign of wealth and that a man "could really bring home the bacon." They would cut off a little to share with guests and they would all sit around and "chew the fat."

If you had money your plates were made out of pewter. Sometimes some of their food had a high acid content and some of the lead would leach out into the food. They really noticed it happened with tomatoes. So they stopped eating tomatoes, for 400 years. Most people didn't have pewter plates though; they all had trenchers, which were a piece of wood with the middle scooped out like a bowl. They never washed their boards and a lot of times worms would get into the wood. After eating off the trencher with worms they would get "trench mouth." It also gives us the English word "Trencherman" for somebody who likes their food.If you were going travelling and wanted to stay at an Inn they usually provided the bed but not the board. The bread was divided according to status. The workers would get the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family would get the middle and guests would get the top, or the "upper crust". They also had lead cups and when they would drink their ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes knock them out for a couple of days.


They would be walking along the road and here would be someone knocked out and they thought they were dead. So they would pick them up and take them home and get them ready to bury. They realised if they were too slow about it, the person would wake up. Also, maybe not all of the people they were burying were dead. So they would lay them out on the kitchen table for a couple of days, the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. That's where the custom of holding a "wake" came from. Since England is so old and small they started running out of places to bury people. So they started digging up some coffins and would take their bones to a house and re-use the grave. They started opening these coffins and found some had scratch marks on the inside. One out of 25 coffins were that way and they realised they had still been burying people alive. So they thought they would tie a string on their wrist and lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night to listen for the bell. That is how the saying "graveyard shift" was made. If the bell would ring they would know that someone was "saved by the bell" or he was a "dead ringer".


Then there were baby's high chair (with holes in the seat (a.k.a. "drainage chair") -During the winter months, young babies were strapped into their chairs and were never allowed to crawl around in the hay on the stone-cold floor. They didn't wear any diapers of any sort. They sat in that chair all day... and you know why there were holes in their chair!

“To beat around the bush” - Game birds were scared out of their hiding places under bushes and then killed. “The bee's knees” - the very best, the most desirable. Example: "Everyone agreed that Harry's diamond studded cufflinks were just the bee's knees." This strange expression is one of many that emerged during the 1920s "flapper" period, when anything excellent was likely to receive a catchphrase having something to do with an animal part. There were "monkey's eyebrows," "gnat's elbows," "bullfrog's beard," "elephant's adenoids," "cat's pyjamas," and many more. “The bitter end” - If you hang on to the bitter end, you are extending your efforts without giving up, even if it means you keep trying until you ultimately fail. Example: "Although he was limping on a sprained ankle and last in the race, Hugh kept running right to the bitter end." Although the end of one's efforts may be bitter, the original phrase was a nautical expression that had nothing to do with bitterness. On a ship, the bollards (posts) on which cables are wound are called bitts, a bitter is one turn of the cable around the bitt, and the bitter end is the last loop of cable. If a cable is let out to the bitter end, then there is no more slack, and the ship could be damaged by a large swell or rough weather. On a ship, it's best not to go to the bitter end.


Black market - In medieval England there were nomadic mercenaries who wandered the country side and would sell their services to the highest bidder. These were hardened fighters who lived solitary lives in the wilderness. They did not have the luxury of servants to polish their armour and it would oxidize to a blackish hue, and they came to be known as black knights. At local town festivals they would have exhibition jousting matches in which the winner of the fight would win the loser's weapons and armour. The local gentry, softened by the good life, would lose to these black knights. The nomadic knights didn't have much use for an extra set of armour and would sell it back to them immediately after the fight. The losing nobility would be forced to buy back their armour and this after market came to be known as the "Black Market.” Bombed - A bombard is a leather jug which holds 8 pints or 4 quarts. A full bombard of ale would make you drunk. Bonfire - The discarded "bones" from winter meals were piled outside and bonfires would be set to get rid of them.

Bucket shop - a dishonest brokerage firm; especially one that formerly failed to execute customers' margin orders in expectation of making a profit from market fluctuations adverse to the customers' interests. In the 1870s, a bucket shop was a lowly saloon that sold beer and other cheap hooch in buckets. How did the term make the jump from watering hole to Wall Street? No one is really sure. Some speculate that it may have been because of the small-time gambling that took place at the original bucket shops, while others claim it derives from the bucket elevator used to transport things between the Chicago Board of Trade and a market for small investors housed directly below it. By the 1880s, "bucket shop" was being used for pseudo "investment houses" where gamblers bid on the rise and fall of stock prices. These days the term is used for any business that sells cut-price goods, especially airline tickets.

Bum's rush - A short rush, which would burn for a short time, would be used when company came over rather late; when it burnt out, you would want to see the hind end of your guests out the door. Burning the candle at both ends - If they REALLY didn't want you to stay very long, they would light "both ends" at the same time! Bus - is a long passenger vehicle with a central aisle and seats along the sides. It can also be a cart for carrying dishes in a restaurant, a metal bar that distributes electricity to many different devices, or a group of electrical lines that carries data signals. Strangely, all these meanings are closely related. In France in 1828, a new kind of conveyance was invented. It was called a "voiture omnibus," where the first word was French for "carriage" and the second was Latin for "for all." The new kind of carriage caught on quickly in England, where it was simply called the omnibus. In a strange twist of linguistics, the name was shortened to bus, leaving only the suffix of the original Latin word without the root. Since a bus carried a collection of diverse people, the same word became applied to other things having to do with diverse collections, such as the cart for dishes and the electrical cables for power and data distribution.


"Clean your plate before you have dessert" - The square plate (above) was never washed either. After your daily dose of stew, you wiped your plate clean with a piece of bread. Then you flipped it over which provided a flat surface for your dessert portion (if there was any, that is). Clink -The name of the Bishop of Southwark’s prison which was on Clink Street in the Southwark area of London. Cold shoulder - When a guests would over stay their welcome as house guests, the hosts would (instead of feeding them good, warm meals) give their too-long staying guests the worst part of the animal, not warmed, but the COLD SHOULDER. Cut through the red tape - Solicitors kept their clients papers in a file folder tied with red ribbon to prevent the papers from falling out. Of course, when they wanted to get at the papers, they would have to cut through the red tape.

Davy Jones's locker - the bottom of the ocean. Was there a real Davy Jones? That's a question linguists have pondered since 18th-century sailors started using the name for the evil spirit of the sea or the deadly depths of the ocean. Some claim the original Davy Jones was a British pirate, but there's no evidence such a person actually existed. Others swear he was a London pub owner who kept drugged ale in a special locker, served it to the unwary, and then had them shanghaied to sea. But the theory considered most plausible is that the "Davy" in “Davy Jones's locker" was inspired by St. David, the patron saint of Wales, who was often invoked by Welsh sailors. The "Jones" is traced to Jonah, the biblical figure who was swallowed by a whale. Dead as a doornail -- "Knock, knock." That wasn't the beginning of a joke centuries ago, before we had doorbells that could play the theme from "The Godfather" or "Westminster Chimes" or even just plain ring. In those days you didn't push anything to announce yourself: you pounded. Doors back then were thick and visitors used a knocker to bang on a metal plate on the door to get attention. Doornails held this target in place. If you were popular and had a lot of callers--hopefully not all bill collectors - the doornails would take their share of abuse. Eventually they got pretty mashed, giving rise to the expression, "dead as a . . ."


Done to a turn - Meat was roasted until cooked on an upright spit which had to be turned by hand. “Dead man's hand" - Life insurance companies won't pay off if you engage in certain dangerous activities. In the Old West, if we can believe westerns, "a friendly game of poker," might have voided a policy. Disturbingly often, one or more players didn't leave the card table alive. On August 2, 1876, in the town of Deadwood, in the Dakota Territory, it was the legendary Wild Bill Hickock who cashed in his chips, shot in the back by a man named Jack McCall while playing poker in a saloon. Wild Bill slumped over holding a pair of aces and a pair of eights, forever after called a dead man's hand.

Doily - A small ornamental mat, usually of lace or linen, named after Doily or Doyly, an 18th century London draper. "Druthers" Your imagination would come up with more intriguing possibilities than the reality of the origins of the expression. It's simply the product of a regional speech mannerism, in which "I'd rather" gets contracted into "druther," and then becomes a noun by adding an "s." So if you had your druthers, you would have what you want, what you'd rather have. Eating humble pie - Servants ate "umble pie" which was made from deer waste while their Master and his guests had the better cuts of meat. Farming it out - The expression "farming out" - having someone else do part or all of your work - is connected to the place where you get up before dawn, work yourself to the bone, plant seeds, pray for rain, and then sometimes see your crops washed away when you get exactly what you asked for. But the connection is not that the expression came from the place, but rather that both come from the same source. In the Middle Ages, the word "farm" meant a tax or rent, not the land where you keep cows and pigs. The actual collection of the tax was subcontracted out to a person known as a tax farmer. Eventually the property for which the tax or rent was paid came to be called a farm. And farming something out came to mean subcontracting - assigning or paying someone to do our work for us.

Fuddy duddy -- A fuddy duddy is an old-fashioned person with fussy, hyper-critical ways. Example: "Professor Higgins is such a fuddy duddy, he won't even let his boys play in the yard on Saturdays." The origin of this phrase is uncertain. It seems to have first gotten started around 1900 in Maine, a place and time of puritanical, straight-laced attitudes. Some dictionaries suggest that the phrase is related to "fuddled," an old word meaning "drunk or confused," but that theory seems unlikely because a fuddy duddy is not the kind of person who is likely to get drunk. A more intriguing theory is that it emerged from the letters sometimes found after the names of clergymen, who were also professors, something fairly common in those days. Someone known as "James Witherspoon, Ph.D., D.D." might have been called "James Witherspoon, fuddy duddy" by those with little respect for his credentials.

Get out of bed on the wrong side - An old superstition said that it was bad luck to put the left foot down when getting out of bed. Getting your goat - This apparently refers to an old English (Welsh?) belief that keeping a goat in the barn would have a calming effect on the cows, hence producing more milk. When one wanted to antagonise/terrorise one's enemy, you would abscond with their goat rendering their milk cows less- to non-productive. Gone to pot - Time eventually wears everything down. For example, once great downtown department stores declined, went to pot and were replaced by suburban malls. If you've ever gone to a school reunion, you know how just a few years, a few pounds, and a few grey hairs can make old classmates look like they've gone to pot, too. But why the pot? Is something cooking? Whatever counter-culture references the phrase may bring to mind, it actually is about the kitchen. In the Middle Ages, table scraps ended up in a big pot for stew. Once the centrepiece of a big meal, main courses were demoted to leftovers. Eventually "going to pot", meaning going downhill, would be applied to anything, even the guy who sat behind you in the schoolroom years ago.

Goose bumps - When was the last time you used one of your small toes to accomplish anything? It's one of several physical traits that are holdovers from long ago. Another is our appendix, a vestigial organ that no longer does much at all, yet we still have it. Goose bumps fall into this same category. We humans used to be a lot hairier. In cold weather that hair stood up on end, providing us with a natural insulation by creating pockets of warmer air between our skin and the outside cold. Relatively hairless now, we can wear goose down parkas to keep warm. But we still get goose bumps because the follicles on our skin automatically pucker up in response to the cold, trying to raise the hair that is no longer there.
"Go to town" -- In the nineteenth century, most people lived in the country. They went to town to have fun, get some culture, maybe take care of business, go to church, socialise, or go shopping. It's what many of them did right after their once- a-week bath. So the expression "go to town" came to mean something special, done in a big way, with lots of enthusiasm and excitement, pulling out all the stops and sparing no expense. In spirit, "go to town" resembles another nineteenth century phrase: "Sunday best," the good clothes you saved for church and other special occasions - not the ordinary and everyday things you wore.

John Q. Public - 1) a member of the public or the community: person, citizen 2) the public or the community personified. When John Q. Public made his print debut in the late 1930s, he joined a long line of generic "Johns" in English. About 10 years earlier, "John Citizen" had started appearing in British texts as a nickname for the average Joe. Messrs. Public and Citizen are linguistic youngsters compared to "John Doe"; that term has been used for an anonymous or average man since the mid-1600s. Initially, such generic terms were predominantly male, but that changed with the arrival of "Jane Doe" in the 1930s. "Joan Citizen" debuted in the 1940s, but "Jane Q. Public" didn't find her way into English texts until the mid-1980s. By the way, some think the "Q" was inspired by John Quincy Adams.

Let the cat out of the bag – In the days before spaying there were many surplus cats who were drowned in a sack. If, on the other hand, the tiestring came loose, it was said to let the cat out of the bag. "Living the life of Riley" - Whoever this guy Riley is, the tax collector would probably like to know about his source of income. People attribute such a grand lifestyle to him that he must have done quite well for himself. In fact, no one has ever traced the expression to an actual person, and he or she probably never really existed. But we do know where the expression almost certainly originated. His name was originally O'Riley (or O'Reilly--the spelling varies) and he was given life in a song, "Are You the O'Riley?" made popular in the late 19th century by the great vaudeville performer, Pat Rooney. In the song, O'Riley is always looking to strike it rich and lead the good life. Today, of course, we are more realistic about the possibilities of getting rich quick and actually living the life of Riley.


Limelight [in the] - Limelight has nothing to do with citrus fruit, and it's not even green. Being in the limelight means the same thing as being in the spotlight. Limelight is what theatres used to light the stage with before modern lights were invented. It was called limelight because the source of the brightness was calcium oxide, the corrosive substance also known as lime. When burned, lime gave off an intense white light that fully exposed actors to the public gaze. So if you're in the limelight the spotlight is yours and all eyes are upon you. Losing face - see saving face. Mad as a hatter - If someone says you are mad as a hatter, they are accusing you of being quite irrational. The sense of madness here is "suffering from a disorder of the mind; insane." This phrase usually refers not to someone who is actually insane, but rather to a more normal person who is behaving in an irrational way. The phrase emerged in England in the 19th century. Hatmakers in those days used a lot of felt that was treated with chemicals including lead, arsenic, and mercury. Unfortunately, those chemicals are highly toxic. The symptoms of such poisoning include palsy, confused speech, and distorted thinking. Today, making hats is a much safer profession, but the phrase survives. An interesting alternate explanation of the phrase derives hatter from Anglo-Saxon atter (poison), which is related to adder (a poisonous snake whose bite was thought to cause insanity).

Mealy-mouthed -- To be mealy-mouthed is to speak in circles, to be unwilling to directly state facts or opinions. The phrase carries a strong sense of disapproval. The source of the phrase is actually more direct: a mealy-mouthed person is like someone whose mouth is full of meal (powdered grain), unable to speak clearly. There's a German expression, "Mehl im Maule behalten" (literally, to carry meal in one's mouth) that means "to speak indirectly." Our phrase most likely came from the German expression, or a similar one in another Germanic language. Mind your own beeswax - This came from the days when smallpox was a regular disfigurement. Fine ladies would fill in the pocks with beeswax. However when the weather was very warm the wax might melt. But it was not the thing to do for one lady to tell another that her makeup needed attention. Hence the sharp rebuke to "mind your own beeswax!"

Mind your P's and Q's - In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So in old England, when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them to mind their own pints and quarts and settle down. It's where we get the phrase "mind your P's and Q's." Not fit to hold a candle to - A menial household task was holding a candle for someone while they completed some type of activity. Some people were not held in much esteem; therefore they were "not fit to hold a candle to." "Old Glory" - This famous name was coined by Captain Stephen Driver, a shipmaster of Salem, Massachusetts, in 1831. As he was leaving on one of his many voyages aboard the Brig Charles Doggett - and this one would climax with the rescue of the mutineers of the Bounty - some friends presented him with a beautiful flag of twenty four stars. As the banner opened to the ocean breeze for the first time, he exclaimed "Old Glory!"


Patent leather - After the Patten shoe which the young women wore in the buttery. When the cream spilled on their shoes, the fat would tend to make the leather shiny. Peeping Tom - A person who gets pleasure, especially sexual pleasure, from secretly watching others; a voyeur. After the legendary Peeping Tom of Coventry, England, who was the only person to see the Lady Godiva, an English noblewoman of the eleventh century riding naked as a means of persuading her husband, Leofric, Earl of Mercia, to lower taxes. Pig in a poke - Farmers would take their baby pigs to market in a sack (poke). Some unscrupulous ones would tie a large cat in the bag and try to sell it as a piglet sight unseen. Someone buying that way was said to buy a pig in a poke. Pitcher - A leather jug treated with tar pitch to help it hold its shape. Potter's field - It's a standard, heart-grabbing feature story that every newspaper and TV news program runs once in awhile: some poor soul has come to a sad end, dying alone with no relatives or friends to claim the body for a proper burial. At that point the local government steps in to bury the unknown person in a "potter's field." But nobody ever explains how this sad place came to have such a strange name. Its source is The New Testament, Matthew 27:7. After Judas betrayed Jesus he felt guilty and threw away his 30 pieces of silver. The Priests picked up the money in the Temple and spent it to buy land from the potter to provide burial plots for those who needed them. Eventually any municipal cemetery for unclaimed bodies came to be called a potter's field.

The real McCoy - How many times have you said this without ever stopping to think: Who was this guy, and what made him so real? Those who research such things have come up with two likely sources for the expression. One of them was a real person and the other... well, you'll see in a moment. Boxer Kid McCoy was the welterweight champion around 1900. But as comedian Rodney Dangerfield might say, McCoy "couldn't get no respect." His identity was sometimes questioned and to prove it, the Kid would sock the doubter until he acknowledged, "You're the real McCoy." But more likely, it started with "the clear McCoy" (or McKay), slang for good Scotch whiskey. During Prohibition, when cheap homemade hooch was passed off as real imported Scotch, the expression became "the real McCoy," meaning that the booze really did come off the boat.

Room & board - An apprentice would journey to another village to learn more about his craft (journeyman). There he would pay someone for his room, and food for his board. Round robin - A round robin is a sports tournament in which each contestant is matched with every other contestant. It's also a petition in which the signatures are arranged in a circle, like spokes of a wheel, in order to conceal the order of signing. A round robin has nothing to do with red-breasted birds. The name is probably based on the French ruban (ribbon). In the seventeenth century, French monarchs sometimes ordered the death of the first person who signed a petition that displeased the Crown. In order to disguise the order of signing, the names were written on an endless, circular ribbon, and no one could be identified as the instigator of the petition. Later, sailors in the British Navy modified the round robin, using the wheel spoke pattern to hide the order of signing. It was not until the late 1800s that "round robin" was applied to sports tournaments. Rub you the wrong way - It would be tempting to guess that this has something to do with genies and magic lamps. Rub the lamp the wrong way and maybe an angry genie makes you walk backwards for the rest of your life. But no, the source is much more humdrum. In fact, it's as dreary as housework and involves maids who were in a muddle about how to mop a floor. Several hundred years ago upper class housewives had servant problems. It seems that some of the hired help just didn't understand how to mop up after wet-rubbing a wooden floor. They mopped against the grain, rubbing it the wrong way and leaving streaks. This must have been truly traumatic because the expression gradually came to mean the way anything annoying affects us.

Rule of thumb – The phrase "rule of thumb" is derived from an old English law which stated that you couldn't beat your wife with anything wider than your thumb. Saving face or losing face - The noble ladies and gentlemen of the late 1700s wore much makeup to impress each other. Since they rarely bathed, the makeup would get thicker and thicker. If they sat too close to the heat of the fireplace, the makeup would start to melt. If that happened, a servant would move the screen in front of the fireplace to block the heat, so they wouldn't "lose face." Scuttlebutt - gossip. Say this word out loud a couple of times in succession and it will sound like total nonsense. That's because the words from which it comes have nothing to do with present day life. Scuttle and butt hearken back to the olden days of sailing ships. The butt was a cask of fresh drinking water - a very important object on any ship. The scuttle was the hatch or hole on the deck of the ship near which the butt was placed. Sailors coming over for a drink tended to linger for a moment, exchanging the "latest" with whoever else was drinking. What they said became known as scuttlebutt. Today at work we gossip around the water cooler.

Short end of the stick [Getting the] - Candles were expensive to make, so often reeds were dipped in tallow and burned instead. When visitors came, it was the custom for guests to make their exit by the time the lights went out. Therefore, if your host didn't want you to stay very long, he would give you a "short stick." Short shrift - This is one of those expressions that many of us often use and yet have no idea of what we're saying when we say it. It means to dispense with abruptly. That's what the phrase originally meant too, but what it actually referred to was graphic and grim. (Close your eyes if you're easily upset.) Shrift (or shrive, as in Shrove Tuesday when you made your confession before Lent) was old English for the giving of a penance at confession so people might absolve themselves of sin. To give short shrift referred to that process in its most extreme, dramatic, and condensed form: The brief confession a condemned prisoner at the block was allowed to make before being given the ultimate penance - by the axe man.


Six feet under - Until the bubonic plague swept Europe in the fourteenth century, bodies were buried at varying depths. During the Black Death, people became more aware of the need to bury their dead deep enough to insure that soil erosion didn't expose the remains and create a further health hazard. The specific depth of six feet came later from an English law, something of an early family preservation act in which the idea was to join husband and wife even after death. Six feet down allowed enough space for the coffin of one spouse, and eventually for the coffin of the other on top, and still left two feet of dirt on top of both. We've kept it at six feet for practicality: the depth is above the water table and hard rock, but not too deep for the grave diggers. Slapstick - Requiring little or no dialogue, physical comedy is one of the oldest forms of entertainment. The trademark of the style involves simulated acts of violence - a kick in the pants, a playful slap or a quick whack with a stick - all for the sake of a good laugh. The comedic effect is usually emphasized by sound effects. Gongs and drums accompany the actors blow-by-blow, heightening the experience. In the late 16th century, actors in the Italian "commedia dell'arte" carried flexible clubs that made a sharp cracking noise as the target was struck. The clubs became known as "slapsticks" and since then all forms of physical comedy--with or without sound effects--have carried the name.

Sleep tight - In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes. When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed firmer to sleep on. That's where the phrase, "goodnight, sleep tight" came from. Son of a gun - After sailors had crossed the Atlantic to the West Indies, they would take the native women on board the ship and have their way with them in between the cannons. Some of the women the sailors left behind would have boys, who were called sons between the guns. Spring cleaning - The layer of hay in the kitchen was finally hauled out of the house when the weather turned warm in the spring. Square meal [getting a] - Your dinner plate was a square piece of wood with a "bowl" carved out to hold your serving of the perpetual stew that was always cooking over the fire. The kettle was never actually emptied and cleaned out. New ingredients were simply added to the muck. You always took your "square" with you when you went travelling. Start the ball rolling - Anyone who looks at the English language, especially American English, can see that those who speak it think that life is a game. Even when you're not being athletic, it's good to "score a touchdown," "hit a home run," or "deliver a knockout blow." The British are also fond of playing field metaphors - they're the ones who "started the ball rolling." The sport was croquet, the leisurely pastime in which players use mallets to knock wooden balls through metal hoops stuck in the grass. Someone had to hit the ball first and start it rolling, and gradually the expression came to mean anyone who got things going.


Strike while the iron is hot - No, this has nothing to do with the iron you apply to a blouse or shirt. Nor is it connected to the golf club that's been giving you so many good shots lately. In fact, you would probably have to be more than a hundred years old to recall the everyday experience that gave rise to the expression. As late as the beginning of this century, the blacksmith was still an important person. He made horseshoes and small household items such as door hinges by heating iron till it was red-hot and then shaping it on an anvil with a hammer. The best results came from striking the iron while it was still hot. Eventually, the expression came to mean doing anything at the most opportune time. Stone cold - Slate floors were often cold enough during the winter months that any bare skin coming in contact with them would "stick". The slate floors were covered with a layer of hay to provide some warmth. The kitchen was the only room kept heated during the winter. All of the family spent the day cooped up in this one room (often 10 kids or more)... also the family cats and dogs who served important functions of "mousing," "garbage disposal," and etc. Tanked [getting] - When you drank too much out of the above "tankard" you were said to be "tanked" ... if you got so "tanked" that you passed out, there was a chance that somebody might think you had actually died. Since back then they didn't have experience with taking pulses, they often buried people alive who were actually in a drunken stupor or otherwise comatose. Teetotaller - A teetotaller is a person who abstains completely from all alcoholic drinks. Such a person practices teetotalism, and is a teetotal person. Is a teetotaler someone who "totally drinks tea?" Actually, the original root form had nothing to do with drinking. As far back as the early 1800s, "tee-totally" was an emphatic form of "totally." This use shows the true origin of the teetotal family as a result of reduplication, a lexical phenomenon where the initial letter of a word is repeated for emphasis. Most sources agree that the first application of "teetotal" to drinking was in a speech by Richard Turner, a member of the British Temperance Society, in 1833, in which he urged everyone to abstain tee-totally from all forms of alcohol.

Tie the knot - Tying the knot of the ropes in the marriage bed...or ... The priest performing the wedding would bind the bride and grooms hands with rope during the ceremony. In modern day, you will often see the priest place a sash around their hands rather than rope, and it is from this that the saying comes. Although the practice is not as common as it was, depending on your denomination it is still done. Tumbler & tipsy - Glasses were hand blown, thus flat bottomed glasses were difficult to produce. Those with curved bottoms would tend to tumble over when placed on the table, and too many tumblers of whiskey would make you a little bit tipsy. Turn the tables - Tables only had one finished side. The other side, less expensive to make, was rougher. When the family was alone, they ate on the rough side to keep the good side nice for company. When company came, the whole top lifted off and was turned to its good side. Wet your whistle - Many years ago in England, pub regulars had a whistle baked into the rim or handle of their ceramic cups. When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to get some service. Hence, "Wet your whistle."

Whole 9 yards - The term "the whole 9 yards" came from WWII fighter pilots in the Pacific. When arming their airplanes on the ground, the .50 calibre machine gun ammo belts measured exactly 27 feet, before being loaded into the fuselage. If the pilots fired all their ammo at a target, it got "the whole 9 yards." “Your name is mud” originated from Dr. Mudd's swearing in at Richard Lawrence's trial when his lawyer said “Your name is Mudd?”. (Lawerence attempted to assassinate President Jackson. When he failed he ran into a warehouse which the Doctor was in).

P.S. A few words

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are the 2005 winners:

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

2. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realise it was your money to start with.

4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

5. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.



8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

10. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

11. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease.

12. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

13. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.



14. Glibido: All talk and no action.

15. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

16. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

17. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot becast out.

18. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.

Supreme Court Rules That Death Penalty Is 'Totally Badass'

Supreme Court Rules That Death Penalty Is 'Totally Badass'

U.S. Finally Gets Around To Closing Last WWII Internment Camp

U.S. Finally Gets Around To Closing Last WWII Internment Camp

James Joyce and Me

Dublin and Anna Livia Plurabella

Today, in my hometown of Dublin, hundreds of people gather to celebrate Bloomsday, the annual event dedicated to the lead character in James Joyce’s Ulysses. Bloomsday re-enacts the epic journey through the capital undertaken by Leopold Bloom on June 16th 1904. The name derives from the protagonist of Joyce's Ulysses, and 16th. June was the date of Joyce's first outing with his wife-to-be, Nora Barnacle, when they walked to the Dublin village of Ringsend. Nora Barnacle is the great constant of Joyce’s life, a chambermaid from Galway, who remained his rock, teacher, and a portable Ireland throughout their lives in exile. Indeed if you walk down Dublin’s Nassau Street at the side of Trinity College you will see in winter (when the leaves are off the trees) on the gable wall of the building where the college wall ends the outline of a sign for “Finns Hotel”, the long closed hotel where Joyce’s inamorta worked. The narrator of Joyce’s Ulysses, Leopold Bloom is the non-practising son of a Hungarian Jew (Blum) and Dublin is viewed on this single day through his outsiders eyes in a narrative modelled on the structure of Homer’s Odyssey.

Ulysses deals with the opulence of personal thought and while we are ushered into its characters private worlds with ease, we know little about their exteriors. The narrative parallels Homer’s Odyssey, but an in-depth knowledge of The Odyssey is not necessary for enjoyment of Ulysses. Throughout the novel, the reader is permitted to become wholly familiar with the inner workings of Leopold’s mind, but not given enough information about his physical appearance to form a clear mental picture of him. We are told he is quiet and decent, a man of inflexible honour to his fingertips. He has a pale intellectual face in which are set two dark large lidded, superbly expressive eyes.

The story of a haunting sorrow is written on his face and his friends say that there’s a touch of the artist about old Bloom, he is isolated from the city he observes, from his religion and most tellingly, from his wife. A safe, moustached man who has his good points and slips off when the fun gets too hot. Another significant figure winding his way through the streets of Dublin in Ulysses is Stephen Dedalus, whom we first meet in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Stephen is an arrogant young intellectual whom Bloom takes under his wing. He acts as a father figure to the young Stephen who fulfils the role to some extent of son for Bloom whose own son died in infancy.


Senator David Norris surrounded by Mollies!

Bloom’s wife Molly in Ulysses is equated with Penelope in The Odyssey and the last chapter of the book is dedicated solely to her meanderings and musings. It is one of the most renowned pieces of writing in Ulysses and is famous for its celebration of this voluptuous, sensuous, opulent, abundant, independent, lush, and blooming woman. Molly Bloom's soliloquy at the end of the James Joyce's Ulysses is recognised as one of the most famous female narratives in modern literature. It has been used as the basis of songs, re-appeared in movies, quoted in other literary works and in terms of its effect on Irish culture was, as the award-winning writer Eavan Boland puts it, "a liberating signpost to this country's future". Sensuous, compelling and at times hugely funny, this soliloquy is the only time in Joyce's seminal novel where Molly's voice is heard. In it, we hear the otherwise silent character bare her soul on life, love, sex and loneliness.


Bloomsday performers outside Davy Byrne's

Today’s Bloomsday is a spirited celebration among culture-lovers in Dublin and the festival, organised by a foundation that commemorates the writer, now runs for a week. It is traditional to dress up and go out around Dublin on Bloomsday, visiting the locations featured in the book and taking part in readings, walks and activities associated with Ulysses. Bloomsday 2008 got underway last Monday and ends today with a number of events taking place in the city centre and south Dublin. Among the events taking place today are theatrical readings by Senator David Norris, performances from the musical Himself and Nora , a Joycean bike ride and a number of walking tours throughout the city. The day begins with the annual Bloomsday breakfast in the James Joyce Centre on North Great George's Street in Dublin. For many visitors, Dublin is Joyce and on Bloomsday there is a range of cultural activities including Ulysses readings and dramatisations, pub crawls and general merriment, much of it hosted by the James Joyce Centre. Enthusiasts often dress in Edwardian costume to celebrate Bloomsday, and retrace Bloom's route around Dublin via landmarks such as Davy Byrne's pub, where Bloom enjoyed a glass of Burgundy and a Gorgonzola sandwich. Hard-core devotees have even been known to hold marathon readings of the entire novel, some lasting up to 36 hours.

However, the Celtic Sage’s favourite work is also Joyce's most accessible, the compendium of short stories “Dubliners”. Completed when its author was just 25 years old, Dubliners skilfully portrays both turn-of-the-century Dublin and Joyce's surroundings in Continental Europe. Joyce's Dublin was one of politics and intrigue, of religious devotion and disaffection; a city in which the pressures and ties of family and society were never far from mind. Dubliners features Joyce's alma mater, Belvedere College; The Gresham Hotel, setting for the climactic scene in “The Dead”; the site of Nelson's Column and many others which form a map of the city.

Bloomsday, Joyce Centre, North Great George's Street

Joyce’s intention in writing Dubliners, in his own words was to write a chapter of the moral history of his country, and he chose Dublin for the scene because that city seemed to him to be the centre of paralysis. He tried to present it to the indifferent public under four of its aspects: childhood, adolescence, maturity and public life. Dubliners is a collection of vignettes of Dublin life at the end of the 19th Century written, by Joyce’s own admission, for the most part in a style of scrupulous meanness. ‘The Sisters’, ‘An Encounter’ and ‘Araby’ are stories from childhood. ‘Eveline’, ‘After the Race’, ‘Two Gallants’ and ‘The Boarding House’ are stories from adolescence. ‘A Little Cloud’, ‘Counterparts’, ‘Clay’ and ‘A Painful Case’ are all stories concerned with mature life. Stories from public life are ‘Ivy Day in the Committee Room’, ‘A Mother and Grace’.



"The Dead" is the last story in the collection and probably Joyce’s greatest. It stands alone and, as the title would indicate, is concerned with death. There is a clear structure to Dubliners for as the stories develop there is a clear progression from youth to middle age and finally, to death. Its stories are arranged in an order reflecting the development of a child into a grown man. The first three stories are told from the point of view of a young boy, the next three from the point of view of an adolescent, and so on. In each of the stories there is a narrator or protagonist who reaches a moment of personal epiphany, a moment of painful personal revelation and self awareness.

"The Dead" is the longest story in the collection and widely considered to be one of the greatest short stories in the English language. It was also, fittingly, the last movie made by the great director John Huston and featured his daughter Angelica who went to school with friends of mine in Loughrea, Co. Galway. The story centres on Gabriel Conroy on the night of the Morkan sisters' annual dance and dinner in the first week of January, 1904, perhaps the Feast of the Epiphany (January 6) Typical of the stories in Dubliners, "The Dead" develops toward a moment of painful self-awareness; Joyce described this as an epiphany. The narrative generally concentrates on Gabriel's insecurities, his social awkwardness, and the defensive way he copes with his discomfort. The story culminates at the point when Gabriel discovers that, through years of marriage, there was much he never knew of his wife's past. His later thoughts reveal this attachment to the past when he envisions snow as “general all over Ireland.” In every corner of the country, snow touches both the dead and the living, uniting them in frozen paralysis. However, Gabriel’s thoughts in the final lines of Dubliners suggest that the living might in fact be able to free themselves and live unfettered by deadening routines and the past. Even in January, snow is unusual in Ireland and cannot last forever.






John Huston's 1987 movie of "The Dead" - ".. snow is unusual in Ireland ..."

The building in which James Joyce set the short story, The Dead, is along the south quays of the River Liffey at 15, Usher’s Island and has been preserved. In The Dead there are frequent references to the depleted schismatic state of Irish nationalism after the death of the great Irish Parliamentarian Charles Stewart Parnell who was forced out of office by the Catholic Church and his opponents over his relationship with a married woman, Kitty O’Shea. There are frequent references in his later stories to “Ivy Day” (Ivy Day in the Committe Room) which is the 6th October and is commemorated as the anniversary of Parnell’s death and is also somebody else’s birthday! The other short story in Dubliners I particularly relate to is “Araby.” It opens in North Richmond Street which is described in the opening paragraph;


NORTH RICHMOND STREET being blind

“NORTH RICHMOND STREET being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers' School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces.”


17 North Richmond Street

North Richmond Street is where I grew up as a child, the surrounding streets were my playground and the inner city district of Summerhill was my world until I was nearly five. We lived at No. 15 North Richmond Street and two doors up, looking down the street to the “blind” end on the right hand side is No. 17 where the Joyce family lived for a while. His father was impecunious and the family moved downwards through Dublin from one rented address to another, each one less respectable than the last.

"Araby" is one of fifteen short stories that together make up Joyce's collection, Dubliners. "Araby" is the last story of the first set, and is told through the confused thoughts and dreams of the young male protagonist. Joyce uses this familiarity with the narrator's feelings to evoke in the reader a response similar to the boy's epiphany at the climax of the story. As in many stories of adolescence, the protagonist of "Araby" suffers both isolation and alienation. He never shares his feelings concerning Mangan's sister with anyone. He isolates himself from his friends, who seem terribly young to him once his crush begins, and from his family, who seem caught up in their own world. “Araby” is a tale of sexual awakening where the unrequited love of the young protagonist is set against his excitement at going to the Araby Bazaar (An event held in Dublin in 1894) only to be crushed with disappointment that this event which promised an insight into an exotic world was virtually over and largely in darkness when he arrived. It is an anti-climatic tale of journeys begun with great anticipation which come full circle and lead nowhere, and through it and all the stories in Dubliners there is Joyce’s “scrupulous meanness” sketching the mundanity of everyday existence.

Araby Bazaar Handbill 1894

The great irony is James Joyce didn't like Dublin. He made no secret of the fact, but he never wrote of anywhere else and his writing is filled with the city. From his early work, Dubliners, to his last novel, Finnegan's Wake, Joyce shows a type of obsession with the city of his birth and childhood. It was a very different city from today’s Dublin. It was a city of gaslight, horse-drawn carriages, out-door plumbing and unpaved streets. Poverty permeated the city and the once magnificent Georgian areas were declining into slums. Although in voluntary exile abroad, Joyce could accurately paint a picture of Dublin in detail that would be difficult to achieve for someone walking its streets and taking notes every day.

The novel that shows this most clearly is, of course, his famous work, Ulysses. Joyce once said of this novel:

"I want to give a picture of Dublin so complete that if the city one day suddenly disappeared from the earth it could be reconstructed out of my book."

His achievement may come short of being able to rebuild Dublin brick by brick but it is possible to trace Leopold Bloom's 18 mile perambulation around the city in the exact timing of the character - that is how accurate Joyce's calculations were. And this is exactly what many people do every year on the 16th of June. So enjoy a glass of Burgundy and a Gorgonzola sandwich and a supper of inner organs of Beast and Fowl and enjoy an ironic Bloomsday.

James Joyce and Sylvia Beach, Shakespeare & Co., Paris

James Joyce (1882–1941) broke with his native Ireland and with late Victorian conventions to shape a new life for himself and a new literature for his time. His early life was unsettled. Moving to the European continent in 1904, he wavered among careers, considering medicine, law, banking, classical singing, wool merchandising, and managing a theatre troupe, in between stints of writing and language tutoring, as he worked on his early short stories, poems, and finally novels. Until he came to the attention of vigorous advocates and patrons such as Ezra Pound and Harriet Weaver, his finances were in chaos, and the combination of financial pressures and World War I drove him to move around from Pola to Trieste to Zurich, bringing his young family with him. From 1917 onward, he was also increasingly troubled with major eye problems, and his eyesight deteriorated even as the breadth of his literary vision expanded. His daughter Lucia was diagnosed with chronic schizophrenia and his son Giorgio was dissolute, reminding Joyce uncomfortably of his own father. He returned to Zürich in late 1940, fleeing the Nazi occupation of France. On 11 January 1941, he underwent surgery for a perforated ulcer. While he at first improved, he relapsed the following day, and despite several transfusions, fell into a coma. He died on 13 January 1941 and is buried in the Fluntern Cemetery within sight and earshot of Zürich zoo. Although two senior Irish diplomats were in Switzerland at the time, neither attended Joyce's funeral, and the Irish government subsequently declined Nora Joyce’s offer to permit the repatriation of Joyce's remains. No doubt DeValera's diplomats were there to maintain relations with Herr Hitler's government and didn't want to be seen to be decent to this immoral writer. When Hitler died DeValera called on the German Ambassador to give his condolences (the only Head of Government to do so and after the war his first foreign trip was to see his soulmates Salazar and Franco) - very moral was our DeValera. Nora Joyce died 10 years later and is buried beside him as is his son Giorgio who died in 1976.


James Joyce 1904

In the midst of his instabilities, or perhaps partly because of them, Joyce shaped an entirely new literary style. He focused on small incidents and moments in the lives of ordinary people, and yet he made those moments both universally appealing and profound. He elevated the stream-of-consciousness technique to a new art form. Joyce’s work did much to define modern literature. And try as he might in exile to escape Ireland and Dublin he never left them and they never left him. But like Leopold Bloom he always observed them from the vantage point of an outsider.

Good Old Magna Carta

David Davis

Now I take David Davis’s resignation of his seat in the House of Commons at face value and believe he is entirely sincere in his campaign to stop the habitual push back of civil liberties in the UK and the creation of a surveillance society where we are treated not as citizens but as suspects. Indeed I have articulated similar concerns about abuse of Police powers and the creation of a Surveillance Society, and a frequently incompetent one at that. Davis was pushed over the edge by the squalid deal (£200 m, you don’t need to know the depressing details but look on Slugger O’Toole on my Blog Roll if you do!) with 9 Irish DUP MP’s to allow civil liberties in England to be curtailed. Gordon Brown has denied a deal but in the immortal words of Mandy Rice Davies, you would expect him to say that. Indeed the habitual abuse of section 7 of the Terrorism Act by the Coppers is proof that where civil liberties and Police Powers are concerned if you give them an inch they’ll take a yard. It was also why, if we were arrested, we would have to be charged promptly. We knew that to give police the power to lock people up for weeks on end while they went looking for evidence was a recipe for serious abuse.

David Davis, a former SAS Territorial who believes in the death penalty for pre-meditated murder, is still an unlikely hero of liberal Britain in sacrificing his political career to launch a one-man crusade against the Government's plan for suspected terrorists to be detained for 42 days without charge.

Mr Davis knows that. He thinks it is more important to make a stand now; that 42-day detention is such an infringement of our liberties dating back to Magna Carta that his ambitions must take second place. It may sound pious in the Westminster village but it may play well in the real world, where people have switched off from political parties – the MPs and MEPs who fiddle their expenses and do grubby backroom deals, as Mr Brown did to squeak through 42-day detention with the votes of nine Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) MPs who are normally natural bedfellows of the Tories.

It was the manner of Mr Brown's hollow victory that pushed Mr Davis over the edge. He was spitting blood that the Prime Minister had resorted to offering "30 pieces of silver" to the DUP to overturn civil rights enjoyed in Britain for 800 years. Mr Davis is already planning his campaign for an "anti-Big Brother by-election" on 10 July. He wants to start a debate on aspects of Britain's "surveillance society", including what he regards as "the most intrusive identity card system in the world" and the scale of the DNA database.

So I should be applauding David Davis’s campaign, but I find I’m not. Indeed I agree with Michael Heseltine and Norman Tebbit who represent the two polar opposites in the Tory Party who coincidently used the same word to describe Davis’s action – “Incomprehensible.” Whatever his feelings resigning from Parliament and causing (at some expense to you and I) a by election is hubris and grandstanding of a high order. What could he possibly achieve when the two main parties won’t run against him and his opponent will be the Rent-a-Goon impersonator Kelvin McKenzie? Indeed what debate will he provoke which he couldn’t provoke as Shadow Home Secretary? Indeed who is he campaigning against, the Labour or the Conservative Party?


King John signing Magna Carta

I share David Davis’s concern that the thrust of the Magna Carta is being blunted. That one of the great values of being a British citizen has been the strong sense that we are not here at the behest of the state; the state is here at our behest. That was why policemen could not just stop us and demand to know who we were or where we were going. However his tactics are misplaced and misguided and far from resonating with the populace I believe they will echo the comedian Tony Hancock’s words;

“We should always defend Magna Carta, after all he died for our freedom.”

"No freeman shall be taken or imprisoned or disseised or exiled or in any way destroyed, nor will we go upon him nor will we send upon him except upon the lawful judgment of his peers or the law of the land."

Magna Carta; Article 39 – 1215 AD